


Imperfect Timing

by HQuinn



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Break Up, F/M, First Love, Lost Love, Original Character Death(s), Slow Burn, Smut, The Blight (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQuinn/pseuds/HQuinn
Summary: What if you met the right person, but at the wrong time?Cullen met Dria Cousland and there were sparks almost immediately. Unfortunately it was right after the events of the Circle being taken over by bloodmages. The paranoia and anger from his PTSD tore them apart.Ten years later she shows up at Skyhold on the arm of another man, The Champion of Kirkwall no less. Is it too late for true love, or will they get a second chance at happiness?





	1. Crazy On You

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of this story may come across as anti Cullen. I promise you I most definitely am proCullen. This story starts not long after the Circle in DAO so at this point he's suffering from what he endured. This makes him angry, bitter, paranoid, all the things you'd expect. As the story progresses, so will his healing. I'm just trying to be realistic about how I think he'd make that journey, but I promise you that I LOVE his character arc and him. Hopefully that comes through.
> 
> CW: Mention of torture in this chapter (from the demons in the Circle).

Cullen hated being a curiosity. Ever since he’d been rescued from the blood mages he had become just that. Mages no longer spoke to him as he watched over them. The once approachable Templar now had a glare, watching them like a mabari for any signs of the slightest indiscretions. Since his return to active duty he’d caught several mages in compromising positions behind the stacks of the library. He knew now that not a single one of them could be trusted. The idea that he’d once been naive enough to have a crush on the Amell girl disgusted him. He saw now, that these mages were not people and shouldn’t be treated as such. They were vicious monsters waiting for a chance to attack.

The mages’ stares didn’t bother him the way the ones from his fellow Templars did, though. None of them sat with him in the mess hall anymore, but he could feel their eyes on him. He would hear whispers that would stop when he entered a room. He received so much attention the first time they saw his scar from the desire demon’s claws on his chest that he stopped bathing with the others. He now waited until late at night when he could soak in piece. He hated being a curiosity.

Yet for some reason, the female Warden looking at him at that moment didn’t cause that same feeling of annoyance in him. She was standing beside her fellow Warden as they spoke with Greagoir. The male Warden was tall, easily six foot, with a large muscular warrior build. His stature made her appear small, even though she was probably five eight at least. He remembered them as the ones that had rescued him from the cage. They were saying something about some treaties they had, he could only hear every few words. Her light brown eyes had lit up when she saw Cullen, although her face betrayed nothing. Cullen found it hard to tear his eyes away from her. It was only when her fellow Warden said something that she broke their connection and he was able to refocus on his watch.

“We will send word when the time approaches,” Cullen heard her say in a voice that was somehow both confident and melodic. He took a closer look at her face and noticed then her high cheekbones and that she stood straight. She had the signs of a noble, but how did a noble wind up with the Grey Wardens?

She gave him one more quick look as the two Wardens headed out the door. Her cheeks blushed slightly when she found that he was already watching her and she turned away quickly in response. Her fellow Warden held open the door for her and said something that made her giggle and then they were gone.

He hadn’t given it any more thought until that night when he was alone in the bathing chamber. Cullen stood beside the tub, running his fingers along the ugly scar on his chest. It stood as a bitter reminder to be ever vigilant. He stepped into the tub and felt the heat of the water soak in as he lowered himself in. He closed his eyes. Usually doing so caused his mind to replay the horror he’d lived through, but instead the Warden’s face appeared; smiling and watching him with gentle eyes and a warm smile. He could practically hear her bright laughter. For the first time since he’d been put in that cage two months prior, Cullen smiled.

❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥

To anyone who was ignorant to believe that mages could be trusted the two sitting a little too closely at the far end of the table might look innocent. Cullen knew different as he watched the pair in the library. They only appeared to be enamored but to Cullen it was clear they were plotting. He kept a close watch on their movements, particularly their hands, ready to cast a Holy Smite the moment he saw any magic. He snarled as he heard one of the mages giggle. How was it anyone could laugh in this place of death and horror? Cullen’s right hand clenched into a fist as his breathing became slightly erratic. The laughter of the mages started to mutate into those of the demon in his mind. Taunting him. Reminding him of the screams of his fellow Templars torn apart near him. He heard Carthos beg for mercy as the demon peeled his skin off him. Trevor had been lucky, being torn in two by the rage demon, he died before he could feel pain. Soon only Cullen remained for five long days of torment and torture until help arrived.

He heard the mages laugh again. Were they laughing at him? At his pain? Did they consider it just that their watchers should be tormented and tortured? Cullen snarled. He would remind them who was in charge. He began to take a step towards the table when an armored hand rested on his arm.

“Your girfriend’s back,” his fellow Templar said to him. Cullen hadn’t bothered getting to know the new arrival’s name. There was no point. None of them talked with him except for a passing comment. Cullen was the outcast here, he knew his role and owned it.

“What?” Cullen snarled, not in the mood for teasing.

“Warden’s back. I think she’s looking for you, mate. Seems disappointed that something, or _someone_ is missing from the front room. Anyway, Greagoir sent for you. He’s down in the front, told me to take over your post,” the random Templar explained.

“They’re plotting, watch them,” Cullen answered as he turned to leave.

“Of course,” the other man rolled his eyes in reply. Fool man would learn the hard way when they set him on fire, Cullen thought to himself.

As he entered the front area, he could see that she was, indeed back. This time without her fellow Warden. Instead her party consisted of an elf, a qunari and a dwarf. If nothing else, her companions were definitely diverse. It had been nearly two months since the last time she’d been there. The moment he entered the room her eyes found his. This time she gave him the smallest of smiles, one which her elf noticed based on the deep chuckle he made. Cullen felt his heart beat faster in response to her attention, brief as it was.

She seemed to have reached an agreement with the Knight-Commander and he watched as her party was led away by the Knight-Captain towards the few rooms set aside for when someone from the Chantry would visit.

“Cullen, follow me,” Knight-Commander Greagoir requested as he walked by.

They entered Greagoir’s office, a large room with bookshelves along the walls. Mainly chantry dogma but he had noticed as well there were books on military intermixed. The center of the room was taken up with a large mahogany desk. The Knight-Commander moved behind his desk and sat. Still in full armor, Cullen remained standing.

“There is an incident in Redcliffe that requires some manner of confidentiality. The Arl’s son has been possessed,” he held up his hand to silence whatever Cullen was about to say. “The Warden is here to request our help to save the boy and I have agreed. I’m sending three mages and five templars. After the ritual the boy will be brought back here. I think you need to get away from the Circle for a time, Cullen. I’d like you to lead the mission.”

“We should just destroy the demon while we can. Bringing the mages only risks more possessions,” Cullen began to protest.

“I’ve made my decision. The Warden and her party aided us when we were overrun. I will not turn her away as she asks for help. But I am sending five of you should, and _only_ should, you need to do more. Otherwise I _expect_ you to return with the Arl’s son. Is that understood?”

Cullen nodded in reply.

“Then dismissed. You’ll be leaving before dawn with the Warden’s party.”

The Warden appeared to be punctual, something Cullen could appreciate. The party left the tower just as light was beginning to shine on the horizon. No one in the party spoke as they made their way past Calenhad and took the southern path that would eventually lead them to Redcliffe. Even the mages were quiet, although their silence appeared to be more in awe of being outside than anything else. It wasn’t until nearly mid-day when the tattooed elf broke the silence.

“You appear to be doing better, my friend,” the elf nodded to him.

“Better?” Cullen raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Last time I saw you there was a magical cage surrounding you. Things seem to have improved for you.”

“Only that I know now just how dangerous mages can be and that anyone may be a bloodmage in hiding,” Cullen replied. “You’d do well to watch those in your party, ser.”

“Zevran,” the elf nodded. “And while I happily watch, Morrigan zapped me with a bolt when I tried to compliment her lovely bosom.”

Cullen just gave Zevran a stern look in reply. He found nothing humorous about a mage trying to seduce the party. That was how they got you to let your guard down. He’d been fool enough to fall for that with the Amell girl. He’d not make that mistake again. He slowed down so as not to walk alongside the elf and instead took up the rear behind the mages to keep a closer eye on them. They’d be unable to escape without him seeing from this position.

He skipped lunch, not wanting to be distracted by the food. It was a decision his stomach was protesting come evening. Cullen stood at attention in the camp that had been set up for the Templars and their charges. He glared with distrust for a moment at the mages sitting around the fire talking over their meal. The other four templars stood around them, a bit too relaxed for Cullen’s comfort but he remained silent as his eyes turned towards the nearby fire where the Warden sat with her elven companion and a grey mabari at her feet.

He’d observed their strange party today as they had traveled. He’d thought at first that the male Warden was the leader but he soon realized it was the female in charge. Her party deferred to her not only in battle but in all decisions. He watched as the obviously drunk dwarf stumbled to what Cullen assumed was his tent. The man appeared to be drunk most of the time, yet when they had encountered bandits earlier, the dwarf fought without any signs of impediment. The qunari was a force for sure. His size alone should have made the bandits turn tail and run as he towered easily a foot over even Cullen; but then, no one ever accused bandits of having wits. The elf fought with the skill of a professional, and Cullen was not surprised to later learn he had been a former Crow when he’d introduced himself later. Zevran, if Cullen remembered correctly. He’d still had yet to catch the names of the rest of the party, but saw little need to.

The elf elbowed the Warden and laughed as she blushed. Her eyes looked in Cullen’s direction briefly as she then nodded and got up to tend to the fire. A few moments later, she left and soon Cullen realized she was walking towards him. He straightened up, feeling uncomfortable at her approach. Ever since his capture, he’d been wary of anyone in his space.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said as she held out a bowl of what looked like stew to him.

“What?” his eyebrow arched in confusion.

“I noticed you didn’t eat with your fellow Templars and I thought, well, maybe…” her voice began to lose her confidence.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Cullen quickly grabbed the bowl admonishing himself for the lack of manners. His mother would have been ashamed; she’d raised him better.

She beamed as he began to eat the stew. It instantly felt like home and he realized she must have made it as he doubted anyone else in her party would have known how to make traditional Fereldan stew. She looked down and kicked at the dirt with her toe nervously while he ate. Cullen watched her, noticing how her long lashes fell upon her cheeks. She had a slight blush upon her face. She was definitely attractive, and he felt something flutter inside him at that realization.

“Do you ever spar?” She asked, not looking up, instead hiding behind her long dark hair.

“Spar? Yes,” he nodded, taking advantage of her shyness to study her features as he ate..

“Would you perhaps spar with me? There’s a perfect place not far from here, just a thousand feet or so,” she looked up only slightly appearing shy in the asking. It was a noticeable contrast to the confident warrior he’d seen in battle earlier that day.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with your companions, Miss...?” He questioned.

“Vanedria,” she smiled slightly. “But call me Dria.”

“For King Vanedrin?” he guessed, knowing his history as any good Ferelden would.

“I think it was my father’s way of honoring King Maric. To your other question, let’s see...Sten just questions if I’m a female or not because I fight, Zev can’t stop flirting and if you haven’t noticed, Oghren’s a bit drunk.”

Cullen chuckled, “I noticed.”

“So?” she tilted her head.

“Very well,” he nodded deciding it would be a good idea to keep his skills sharp should he need them when they faced the abomination.

“You may want to change first. We’ll be using wooden swords, so wearing your plate armor is cheating,” she smirked as she playfully knocked on his chest plate with her knuckles.

“Very well,” Cullen nodded.

“Meet me at the field to the east in about 20 minutes then. My mabari, Charger, can lead the way for you.” Charger stayed beside him as his mistress left for the other camp.

Cullen changed into a pair of cloth pants and a light shirt that he had brought along with this idea of sleeping in. As instructed, he followed the mabari to the clearing she had described. After wearing his Templar armor all day he felt much lighter in comparison. He stopped for a moment a few yards from where Dria oira was and watched as she swung her practice sword while turning in a circle. She moved more graceful then he would have expected someone in a dress to do. When she turned to the right, he caught sight of the slit cut in the skirt nearly up to the waist. The flash of her bare leg caused him to swallow hard imagining what it would feel like to feel that leg wrapped around him. He forced himself to look away and remind himself he was just here to spar.

As he approached he grabbed the other sword she had stuck in the ground for him. “My Lady,” he nodded when she turned.

“Chivalry won’t spare you here,” she smirked as she readied her sword. “I’m afraid there’s no wooden shields. It’d be too much to carry on the road.”

“I’ll go easy on you then,” Cullen replied with a cocky smirk.

“Take your best shot, Chantry Boy,” Dria winked and raised her sword to begin the spar.

Cullen found quickly that she hadn’t been all talk. Whatever training she had received from the Wardens, she was a match for his Templar training. She blocked nearly every attack he made, save one. _Finally_ , he thought as he tapped her on the arm with his blade. He found he liked that she challenged him.

“I told you not to go easy,” she glared at him as she got into a fighting stance.

“I’m twice your size, I don’t want to hurt you,” Cullen explained.

“You won’t so stop condescending me and show me that Templar that survived…”

“I am NOT some monstrosity for you and your friends to stare at,” Cullen roared.

“Of course you aren’t,” Dria shook her head, seemingly unphased by his reaction.

“Yet you stare just the same,” Cullen argued, feeling his chest tighten in anger.

“Don’t you have mirrors in your barracks?” She teased as she circled him with her sword still drawn. “Of course we do. What does that have to do with…”

“Zev and I were admiring your looks, Templar,” she replied as she smacked him hard on the ribs with her sword. Her face grew red, as she seemed surprised at her own boldness.

“Ouch,” he looked down where she’d hit him, letting her words sink in. _She thought him attractive?_

“I did warn you,” she winked as she readied her blade again. This time he prepared her sword and they began to circle again.

He swung at her and she expertly blocked and then ducked as she moved around him. Cullen deflected her incoming attack as he spun on one foot to face her again. Their swords clashed as he took the advantage and forced her back as again and again their blades hit. He wasn’t paying attention to their direction until he realized he had her against a tree, their blades between them. This close he noticed that she was a mere three inches shorter than him. His eyes watched her lips and he moaned internally as her tongue darted out to lick them. She grinned and he realized the moan may not have been as internal as he thought.

Dria pushed back with her sword and he stepped back to allow her to reenter the sparring area. Back and forth they went and he found he was impressed by her talent with the broadsword. He hasn’t met many women that could fight as well as she could and he made a note to ask her later where she’d trained.

“I’m out,” Dria panted after what felt like an hour of continuous sparring. “Remind me next time to get you drunk first so I win.”

Cullen smirked and handed her a towel. “That felt good to work out after so much walking.”

“Aye,” she nodded and started to head back towards the camps. “I thank you and your men for coming to aid us.”

“It’s the duty of every Templar to deal with abominations,” Cullen replied.

“He’s a child, not a monster, Cullen,” she side eyed him as they walked.

“He’s an untrained mage and therefore dangerous,” he couldn’t believe her ignorance.

“He’s a scared child whose father is ill. You’ll do well to remember that. The mission is to save him, don’t let your prejudice get in the way,” she stopped, hands crossed in front of her chest as she faced him now.

“It’s fact, not prejudice. If you watched people you cared about torn apart you wouldn’t be so quick to give them a chance to do it again,” he glared at her.

“One doesn’t have to be a mage to do horrible things,” she glared back.

“Then clearly you’ve never lost someone…”

“You know nothing about me, or my past” her voice cracked as she walked away. He caught the tears in her eyes just as she turned away. He mentally kicked himself for his cruelty.

He approached her and gently touched her shoulder to request she turn around. “Dria, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the only one who lost someone. I lost everyone,” she sniffled as tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly as tried to brush away the wetness on her cheek with his thumb. “I’m an idiot. It’s a blight, of course we’ve all lost someone.”

Dria didn’t reply, only seemed to hold herself tighter as she cried.

“Dria,” Cullen said softly as he stepped closer feeling his heart hurt at the tears he’d caused, “I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him with wet eyes. The way he was looking at her made something flutter in her and she moved her face closer to his until it was just a breath away. She’d been fighting her affection for him since that first day she saw him at the Circle. How many nights had she stayed awake in her tent thinking of the handsome templar? Now, just the slightest of movements and she could taste his lips. He seemed frozen for a moment as her lips brushed along his, still wet from her tears. She wondered if she’d made a mistake, but then he returned the kiss. His fingers wove into her hair, holding her close as his other hand took hold of her waist.

Cullen,” she whispered as her lips pressed along his jaw and down his neck. Now that she knew what his kisses were like, she felt as if she was on fire.

Dria pulled away and they both seemed to be catching their breath as they stared into the other’s eyes. For a moment Cullen worried she was going to pull away. Instead she dove back up at him with more urgency than before, pressing her lips to his yet again. Dria’s nails gently scraped the back of his neck and he moaned into the kiss. In his 19 years, no kiss had made him feel this way. His entire body ached with want of her at that moment. He walked her backwards until she was once again pressed against a tree. He could feel her body pressed against him, just the thin clothing they wore keeping him from feeling her skin. The feel of her in his arms was captivating and he had no desire to let her go now that he had a taste of her kiss.

Cullen let out a shuddering breath at her attentions and his hands began to bunch up her skirt, desperate to touch her skin. His fingers brushed along her leg and her nails dug into his shoulders in response. He could feel goosebumps form where he gently touched her thighs. As he did, Dria pulled herself up him, wrapping her legs around his hips as he held her under her legs to keep her there.

Then she whispered three words into his ear that nearly had him undone right there, _I want you._

Cullen found his boldness and slid his fingers under her smalls where he found her wet and sensitive. She bucked and moaned loudly when he pressed his fingers against her clit and moved them in a circle. Dria’s breath was hot on his neck and it sent a shiver down him. His knees nearly buckled when he felt her fingers brush up against his cock. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d untied his pants until she had touched him. His whole body burned with desire, a need to feel her around him.

“Please,” she begged, nipping at his ear with her teeth.

Cullen turned his head, running his nose along hers. “You’re sure?”

“Please, Cullen,” she begged again.

He removed her hand from him and pushed his pants down further, exposing himself to the cool night air. Dria spread her legs further apart, opening herself to him and he took the offer. Cullen moaned into her neck as he pressed into her, feeling her fingernails dig into his shoulders at the same time. She moaned as he moved inside her, each time sounding more desperate and needy than the last time. He buried his head in her hair, smelling a mix of sweat and flowers. His fingers dug into her hips as he sped up his movements, sure he’d leave marks from how tight he was gripping her.

A few moments later she was pulsing around him, pulling him in further. She moaned his name softly into his ear, her breath hot and needy. It was enough to undo him and he came inside her just as she was coming down from her peak.

Cullen’s lips found her again as he gently lowered her to the ground. The desperation from before was gone, this time they were soft kisses, ones of affection instead of desire. Cullen’s thumb ran along her cheek as he kissed her, not wanting to break the connection. He worried that it would break the spell he seemed to be under, completely enthralled by her. Were she a mage, he’d worry that she’d done something to him, but being that she was a warrior like himself, he knew it was pure; an attraction he hadn’t felt before for another, not even the Amell girl.

“We should head back before they send out a party to look for us,” Dria said, seeming to be disappointed with the suggestion herself.

Cullen understood she was right, just the same. He kissed her nose affectionately and then her cheek. He retied his pants, and then bent down to pick up the practice swords they had dropped when the kissing began. Cullen reached for her hand, which she gave with a shy smile on her face. When they were just outside their camp he couldn’t resist one last kiss before she dropped his hand and returned to her tent. She gave him one last look before she did and then she was gone. For the first time in a long time, he found his sleep was not interrupted by nightmares and awoke fully rested the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait a minute -- the tag says slow burn but they just went at it? There's going to be some of that now, then nothing for a long time -- that's the slow burn, I promise it's coming
> 
> Kudos make me smile. Comments make me dance!!!


	2. Hot N Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Redcliffe continues, along with Cullens ever changing mood swings. Redcliffe castle proves to aggrivate Cullen's PTSD, and the couple say goodbye when they return to Calenhad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More NSFW

The walk to Redcliffe continued the next day. So far they’d yet to run across bandits, however the five heavily armored Templars may have had something to do with that. Dria had been able to strike up a conversation with each of them at one point during the morning walk. They had all come from different parts of Ferelden, and, from what she’d gathered so far, the only thing they had in common was they were new to the Calenhad Tower. Each seemed eager to take their mind off the long trek and were happy to share stories of home. All except Cullen. Dria had tried talking to him, but he seemed to be singularly focused on keeping a trained eye on the mages. After getting no more than a few grunts in reply to her comments, Dria gave up talking with him. She tried to chase away the concern in her head about what that meant by enjoying the passing scenery. The sun was shining overhead as they neared midday and even birds seemed to be chirping. She hadn’t realized how few birds she’d heard during the last few months until she heard them just now.  _ Were the darkspawn eating them? _ Well at least it was a beautiful spring day that anyone could appreciate.

“Does it never get warm in this country?” Zevran grumbled, mainly to himself.

Ok, so not  _ everyone _ could appreciate it.

“What’s the matter, Zev? Can your thin Antivan skin not handle the Ferelden spring?” Dria teased her friend.

“At least the sun should help dry up the smell of wet dog,” Zev winked in reply.

“Oh come now, I think that’s Oghren you smell,” she elbowed him.

“Oh har har,” Oghren commented from where he and Sten were walking ahead of them. “The dwarf smells, how original.”

“I promise you, it is quite the original smell,” Zevran answered.

Oghren’s response was an obscene gesture to which Dria chuckled as Zevran clutched his hands over his heart and feigned a wound.

“We are wasting time with this nonsense. We need to get to Redcliffe before the abomination takes control again,” Cullen growled as he and the Tower group passed them.

“You would think for a man that had just had the pleasure of the night with a beautiful woman such as yourself would be in a better mood,” Zevran commented.

“I think he regrets it,” Dria sighed with a shrug.

“How could he regret such a thing?” Zevran raised an eyebrow. “There is little in the world more pleasurable than sex.”

“There actually are, Zev,” Dria smirked. “But he’s barely said two words to me today even though he keeps looking my way.”

“Have you had sex before? Maybe you need personal tutoring?” he smirked.

“It wasn’t my first, but Dairren.. Well he…” she frowned.

“Highever?” he guessed to which Dria nodded in reply.

“Perhaps you were just bad. Maybe you should show me what you did,” Zevran put his arm around her shoulders.

“Zev,” Dria chuckled, happy that her friend was there to pull her out of her funk.

Cullen seemed to notice her laughter and turned his head to look at the two for a moment. His eyes looked to where Zevran’s arm was around Dria and Dria could see his face fall as he was turning it ahead again. The lightness she’d started feeling left her and she walked in silence the rest of the morning.

By the time they stopped for lunch, she was feeling miserable. She didn’t even feel up to eating with her companions, and took her lunch of dried meat and bread away from the rest. As she ate she heard heavy footsteps approach and turned enough to see it was Cullen approaching.

“Do you think we will pass through a town today?” he asked her. His voice was soft, as if he wanted to keep the others from hearing.

“Maybe towards evening. Why?” She shrugged suddenly finding herself fidgeting. She wasn’t sure what to say to him while at the same time having a hundred things she wanted to say.

He looked at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and she caught the slightest bit of blush on his cheek, “I should get you some witherstalk.”

“Why?” she raised an eyebrow in her confusion.

“I should not have stayed inside you yesterday. The herb will prevent a babe,” his eyes looked up though his head remained down, as if embarrassed to look at her directly.

“Oh,” Dria giggled.

“I don’t see the humor…” Cullen looked slightly annoyed.

Dria looked around to make sure no one else was near enough to hear. “So, I’m still new to all this so I don’t really know what’s secret and what’s not, so just keep this between us, ok?”

Cullen nodded but said nothing.

“Wardens can’t have children. It has to do with the ritual that makes us Wardens in the first place,” Dria said quietly. “So you don’t need worry about the herbs.”

“You’re sure?” 

Dria nodded in reply, “As far as I know, no warden has had any children after the ritual.”

Cullen’s shoulders dropped and his face relaxed as he approached Dria and sat down on the log she was sitting on. “That’s...well that’s a relief.” For the first time that day he smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat.

“Is that...is that why you’ve been avoiding me today?” she asked looking down at her hands, suddenly nervous around him again.

“I thought for sure you would be angry. I know I was upset at myself for such carelessness,” Cullen replied.

“And that’s all,” Dria looked at him this time.

“What else would there be,” Cullen’s face twisted in confusion.

“I thought, perhaps you regretted it,” Dria’s eyes fell to her hands again.

She felt Cullen’s hand touch her cheek and he gently turned her head to look at him again. His lips touched hers, soft with just enough pressure to cause her insides to flutter.

When the kiss ended she opened her eyes to see him watching her with warmth in his eyes, his hand still on her cheek. “I don’t regret a thing. Last night was the first happiness I’ve had in a long time.”

“Oh,” Dria blushed under his gaze.

Cullen chuckled quietly and then stole another kiss before standing up. He offered her his hand to help her raise from the log. “We should continue while we still have daylight.”

Dria brushed the crumbs off her leggings and smiled at him, “Agreed.”

Cullen went off and prepared his group for moving on. As Dria approached her companions, Zevran chuckled at her.

“It appears perhaps things were not as dire as you thought,” he teased.

“You were watching?” Dria felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Just enough to see the kiss. I assume you worked things out,” he packed his shoulder bag as he spoke and then stood beside her.

“We did,” she nodded.

“Good, then I won’t have to stab him in his sleep for breaking my Warden’s heart,” Zevran held out his arm to her which she took as they started the walk.

“Yes, no stabbing would be good,” she laughed. This time when Cullen turned at her laughter he gave her a warm smile which she returned.

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Dria turned the ram meat on the spigot as the camp was set up for the night. After a few minutes, Zevran joined her.

“I appreciate you setting up my tent for me,” she looked at the aforementioned tent, “but why is it so far away from the others?”

“I thought perhaps you and your templar would like some privacy,” Zevran shrugged and reached over the fire to pluck off some of the meat.

“I’m pretty sure that was a one time thing,” Dria shrugged.

“Then he’s a fool. I believe this is done,” Zevran motioned to the meat. 

As he spoke Oghren and Sten approached, most likely drawn by the smell of the cooking ram.

“Smells good, Warden,” Oghren settled on the ground as Sten began slicing off pieces of meat for each of them.

“About how long until we reach Redcliffe?” Dria asked Oghren who she’d learned had proven a good navigator.

“I’d say before sunset tomorrow,” Oghren nodded as he dug into his food.

“Good, I’m worried about what’s been happening since we left,” Dria sighed. “Sten, when we get to town can you restock our supplies?”

The Qunari nodded, his mouth full, preventing him from speaking.

“Your fool is approaching,” Zevran elbowed her.

“Be nice,” Dria chuckled as she watched Cullen approach. He had changed out of his armor and was wearing the same light pants and shirt he had when they’d sparred. “Hello, Cullen. Care to join us?”

Cullen shook his head, “I’ve already eaten. I was hoping we could talk.”

“That’s rarely good,” Dria looked concerned.

“I promise it’s fine,” he tried to reassure her.

Dria stood up and put her plate on the ground before following Cullen. He walked in silence until they were far away from the camp. She couldn’t even make out the light of the fires from where they were. When he stopped he turned to face her. She expected him to start talking about whatever was on his mind at this point. Instead he reached for her, and once close enough, his lips pressed to hers. Like before, she melted into the heat of his kiss. Darrian had been sweet, but his kisses were sloppy and unpracticed. Cullen’s were full of desire and passion and quickly turned her brain to mush. When he pulled away all she could do was smile at him.

“Maker, I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said as he gently touched her cheek.

“Why wait until now?”

“I’d prefer our private business remain private,” he explained.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about?” 

“No, but I couldn’t go another moment without kissing you,” he smirked at her. “I wanted to get more information about Redcliffe, to prepare for what’s facing us.”

He leaned back against a tree and then reached for Dria, pulling her closer, back into him until he could wrap his arms around her. She relaxed against him leaning her head against his chest welcoming his arms wrapped around her protectively. No one had ever just held her like this and she felt a tingle run through her when he held her. .

“Well for starters, expect people in Redcliffe to be anxious. Until recently they were under attack from the undead. The young mage we’re going to help is possessed and the demon was sending them,” she started to explain.

“Are you sure we should be trying to save him? He sounds dangerous,” he started to growl.

“He’s a child, Cullen. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at the Arl and Arlessa that hid his magic. They hired some bloodmage to tutor him, dead now by the way. He’d apparently been a plant from Teyrn Loghain to poison the Arl. That’s what started this mess. Connor was just scared for his father. I’m sure the demon promised the boy that he could cure the Arl. He needs our help, not our fear. Once he’s free of the demon he’ll go to the Circle where he can be properly trained,” she turned around in his arms to face him.

Cullen had his eyes shut and was breathing heavier than normal. Dria touched his face gently and he opened his eyes. For a moment he was back in the barrier at Kinloch, but opening his eyes and seeing her brought him back to the present.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” she asked with no judgement in her voice, only concern.

Cullen nodded and rested his head on her shoulder. Dria wrapped her arms around behind his head and gently stroked his hair with her nails. Cullen’s breathing slowed to normal after a few minutes. Dria felt him kiss her neck as the arms around her tightened. His lips advanced upwards until he was nibbling her ear.

“Cullen,” she whispered as she held his head to keep him from moving away to far.

“I want to hold you tonight,” he spoke softly in her ear. She nodded in reply, now grateful that Zevran had moved her tent to somewhere they’d be alone.

Dria stepped back and reached for his hand. She led him back through the woods and to her tent. Cullen held the flap open for her and she entered, suddenly nervous to have him in her tent. It felt more intimate than what they had done the night before.

Cullen seemed to sense her concerns, “Are you sure this is ok?”

Dria nodded and reached for him. As soon as he held her all those nerves settled. It was weird what a calming effect he had on her after only really knowing him for a day. Then she realized, that no, she actually didn’t know him at all.  _ Where was his family from? Did he have family? What was his last name? _ She must have given some sign of concern because he pulled back slightly to look at her.

“Dria?” he ran a gentle hand over her hair.

“Let’s get ready for bed and then we can talk,” she gave him a shy smile. She pulled off her boots and then as she was about to change into her sleep shirt, when she stopped and looked to see if he was watching. He had his back to her, working on his boots. She didn’t understand why she’d feel concerned about him watching her undress given that he’d been inside her just yesterday, but somehow now everything felt more real and not just a tumble.

Once changed she turned to find him lying on the bedroll, still mostly dressed, but in his undershirt instead of just the cotton shirt. Dria crawled in beside him and settled into his arms. It felt comfortable and safe. Two things she hadn’t truly felt since the attack on Highever. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asked as he watched her eyes.

“I just...what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” he smiled, “Rutherford. Yours?”

_ Shit _ . It hadn’t occurred to her until that moment that he’d want to know about her too. Everyone except her companions treated her different when they found out who she was. She relented, fair was fair. “Cousland.”

He nodded but seemed to show no signs of recognition of the name. Maybe he lived far enough south that he didn’t know?

“Where’s your family from?” she asked.

“Honnleath,” he answered. “My parents live there still with my brother and two sisters. Do you...did you have any siblings?”

“My brother, Fergus. I am uncertain if he died at Ostagar or if he’s still alive,” she answered. She felt some guilt at the part of her that hoped he hadn’t made it. She worried what would happen to him when he discovered what had happened to his wife and child.

“I’m sorry,” he kissed her forehead in response.

Dria just nodded and snuggled into him more, finding she needed the comfort more. 

“So wardens can’t have children?” he asked.

Dria shook her head, “Which I guess works out because of needing to fight the Blight. Plus only…,” she stopped herself.

“Only what?” he asked.

Dria just looked up at him but didn’t answer.

“Another warden secret?” he guessed to which she simply nodded.

“If you weren’t a Templar, what do you think you’d do with your life?” she asked, changing the subject.

Cullen looked up at the tent roof in thought. “I’d probably be a farmer like my father. At this point I’d probably be looking for a wife.”

“How old are you?” Dria asked.

“19. You?”

“18,” she replied. “So a farm and a wife?”

Cullen nodded, “A mabari too.”

“As any good Fereldan should,” she chuckled.

He returned the laughter, “Exactly. Our own home, room for a brood of children. I might be a good life, except…”

“Except what?” she asked.

“Except I’m not that same bright eyed, optimistic boy that left his parents’ home. I see now the reality of things and how cruel it can be. I don’t know that I’d fit with my family anymore.” His eyes tilted towards her, appearing sad.

“They’re your family, Cullen. I’m sure they would love you no matter how much you’ve changed. Families, at least the good ones, support each other. I know if I find Fergus, we’ll be able to help each other overcome our loss,” she felt a tear in her eye at the thought of her beloved brother.

“I hope you find him,” Cullen replied with a squeeze of his arm around her and soft lips on her forehead. 

He closed his eyes, his lips remaining on her as he started to doze. Within a few minutes she could feel his breathing even out and knew he’d fallen asleep. She followed soon after.

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Dria awoke with a start as she felt arms wrapped around her tighten and heard Cullen whimper. “Leave me be,” he grumbled.

“Cullen,” she said gently realizing he was caught in a nightmare. She tried to turn to face him but his hold on her kept her from doing so. “Cullen,” she spoke slightly stronger.

“Dria?” his voice was a mix of sleepiness and confusion. His hold on her released enough that she could turn enough to look up at him as he leaned up from behind her. 

She reached out and gently touched his cheek. “Bloodmages?” she guessed.

Cullen nodded and pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “I’d hoped the nightmares would stay away. I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep.”

“It’s alright, Cullen,” she continued to gently touch his cheek and jaw, hoping to soothe him with her touch.

Cullen hummed and leaned into her touch. Soon his lips found hers, gentle and restrained, as if unsure. Dria licked the corner of Cullen’s mouth and the sound he made indicated he liked it. He was proving to not be a quiet lover. The low moans coming from him were going straight to her core. She could feel herself growing wet the more noises he made. Cullen moved to roll her under him as his hand slipped under her sleep shirt and into her smalls.

“So wet for me already,” he gave her a cocky smirk as he ran a thick finger along her clit. Dria whimpered and arched up in need.

Dria reached into his breeches and began to stroke him, delighting in the feeling of him growing hard in her hand. Cullen groaned and kissed light, feathery kisses along her neck. He pulled her hand from his and put it over her head then reached for her other hand and set it up there as well.

“I want to taste you,” he said as his teeth pulled on her ear lobe.

Dria felt a tingling of excitement at his words. She’d never experienced what he was proposing, but she’d heard her friends talk about it. They’d said how incredible it felt, the sensations it awoke in them. Dria nodded and Cullen began his descent down her body. His lips brushed along her chest, stopping long enough to take one of her nipples into his hot mouth, his tongue teased it into a hard peak before he let if fall from his mouth. Dria squirmed under him suddenly needing to feel pressure at her clit, but he’d removed his hand from there, instead working on pulling her smalls down and off her. She felt an ache of need, his lips on her stomach and moving downward only amplified that ache.

She let out an embarrassing squeak when she felt his hot breath on her core. She quickly covered her mouth and felt herself turn red as she heard Cullen let out a deep chuckle from below. All thoughts of embarrassment fled her the moment his tongue touched her clit. She arched up and he pulled her back down to his hungry mouth, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Fireworks exploded in her mind as he devoured her as if starving for days. He kept alternating between sucking and licking and the ever changing pattern kept building her higher and higher. Dria pulled the pillow over her head to quiet her moans after trying in vain to be silent. She could feel the pull of an impending orgasm in her gut getting stronger and stronger. 

She moaned his name and his humming along her in response nearly killed her. She was starting to understand why the Orlesians called this  _ the small death _ . Without warning it hit her and her thighs tightened around Cullen’s head, yet he showed no signs of stopping his assault on her. Dria screamed into her pillow, arching up despite Cullen’s hold on her. She collapsed into a boneless mass and lifted the pillow off her head.  _ Now _ she understood why the other ladies made such a big deal of this act.

Cullen wiped his face and crawled back up her. When he was overhead she wrapped her arms behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, mixed with what she was quickly coming to think of as the taste of his kisses. The weight of his body on top of her reawoke her desire for him. She could feel his hard cock along her stomach. She wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed, hoping to convey how much she wanted to feel him within her.

Cullen bit her bottom lip gently and moved position. A jerk of his hips and he was in her. They both stilled and moaned together, relishing the feel of being so connected. 

He kissed her ear. “You feel so incredible.” He pressed heated kisses down her neck

Dria ran her nails through his hair and moved her head to give him more access to her neck as he began to move inside her. She moaned, feeling so full of him, and surrounded by him as well. For just a small while, the blight, Howe, the Crows, all of it fell away and her whole world became just the two of them. All she could feel was his body sliding along hers, him moving inside of her, his lips on her sweat laden skin. All she could hear was his praises for how good she felt. For just a small while it was just a woman and her man, young and beautiful, hiding away from the horrors on the other side of the tent walls.

Her second orgasm hit her by surprise. One moment she was relishing the feel of Cullen and the next she was pulsing and clawing at his back.

“Fuck,” Cullen groaned into her neck as he stilled, filling her with his seed.

They remained kissing for what felt like an eternity until exhaustion won out, and Cullen rolled off, leaving her feeling cold and empty all at once. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her close to him. She settled her head along his bare chest, and fell asleep quickly with a smile on her face.

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Alistair met the party at the front door of the castle.

“I’m glad you arrived when you did. I wasn’t sure how much more we could hold him,” Alistair hugged Dria and quickly led the party into the dining hall where Connor was being constrained in a barrier kept up by Morrigan and Wynne.

Dria caught a peek at Cullen and saw how tight his face looked at seeing the barrier. He snapped out of it, quickly directing the Templars while Morrigan gave instruction to the mages.

“Do you really think this will work?” Dria asked Alistair.

“I hope so. For Connor’s sake and for the Arl,” Alistair replied, looking down.

Dria understood they were the closest thing to family he had. She’d kept his secret about being the bastard prince. That he would trust her with such a thing was a big deal, and she wouldn’t break that trust.

“We’ll save them, Alistair,” she said as she took his hand in his and squeezed it.

“Thanks, Dria,” Alistair gave her a half smile and watched as the mages encircled Connor and Morrigan.

The mages began to chant their spell as the Templars watched for any sign of trouble, all with their hands on their swords already. Zevran joined Alistair and Dria to watch and they all held their breath as Morrigan’s eyes closed. It was all in her hands in the Fade now. All they could do was pray to the Maker it worked.

Cullen’s eyes flickered to Dria and Alistair, but she was so focused on Morrigan that she missed it. His grip on his sword’s hilt tightened and he returned his gaze to the mages. He could hear whispers in his head, whispers that had been the same ones he’d heard just before the blood mages had attacked. Looking around, no one else seemed to hear them, so he took a deep breath and maintained his vigil.

The room remained eerily quiet. The pops from the fire in the hearth were the only sounds at several points. Isolde’s eyes were fixed on her son the entire time, silent tears running down her face as she sat in a chair along the wall. Occasionally Connor would twitch, and each time Dria had to remind Isolde to remain in place so as not to disturb the spell.

Dria tried to catch Cullen’s eye, but he was focused on the mages before him. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light from the fire or her own imagination, but to her, he looked scared. It was his eyes that did it, the rest of him looked as if he was just like the other templars--watching their charges. But to her, something was different.

After what felt like hours, Morrigan awoke and the hush in the room was broken. Connor soon followed into consciousness and quickly turned and hugged Morrigan, much to the woman’s horror. The boy was quickly up and running into the arms of his mother who covered his face in kisses and held him close.

“You’re positive the demon is defeated?” Cullen growled at Morrigan.

“It is. I defeated it myself. The boy is just himself now,” Morrigan nodded.

“Let’s all rest. It’s a long journey back to the circle, and we leave at first light,” Dria instructed. She tried to subtly look in Cullen’s direction, but he appeared to be avoiding her gaze.  _ Oh good, we’re back to this again, _ she thought with an internal eye roll.

Isolde called for one of her servents and requested they show everyone to their rooms for the night. Dria started following everyone when she felt arms wrap around her waist. She looked down to see Connor beaming up at her. 

“Mama said you saved me. Thank you,” he hugged her.

“You’re welcome,” Dria patted him on the head affectionately. She could see Isolde looking upon her son with some sadness. Dria realized that he had yet to be told of his fate and that he’d be leaving his home. She gave Isolde a compassionate smile and sent the boy back to his mother.

She entered the room she was to share with Leliana, Morrigan and Wynne and took the unclaimed bed beside Leliana’s.

“So, I hear from Zevran that you had an enjoyable trip back,” Leliana teased with a wink, keeping her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Zevran needs to keep quiet,” Dria blushed without any venom in her voice.

“So was it a mage or a templar?” Leliana pried.

“A templar,” Dria couldn’t help the large smile from her face. “Although I suspect that’s over.”

“Oh?” Leliana looked with concern.

“I mean it’s fine, it’s not like I’d see him after a few days from now anyway,” Dria shrugged as she changed into her nightshirt.

Leliana sat down on her bed and looked at Dria for a moment. “I don’t know. I think Zevran’s right. With everything going on in Thedas, and especially with you being one of the only two wardens in Ferelden, you should take any happiness you can find. It may be only for a few days, but grab onto those few days and enjoy them. So which one was it?”

Dria shook her head, “He said he’d prefer to keep it private.”

“Well, give me some time, I’ll figure it out on my own,” Leliana smirked as they both settled into their beds.

Dria laid awake, trying to find sleep, but instead the advice from her friend stuck in her head. She looked at the blank ceiling for some unknown amount of time trying to quiet her mind. Visions of Cullen filled her mind. How his voice sounded in her ear, the feel of his lips on hers. She could practically smell him. She realized she was fighting a losing battle when she started thinking about how he felt between her legs. If she was alone, in her own tent, she could take care of her problem on her own. But being in a room with three other women, and already knowing that Wynne seemed to frown on any type of fraternization while they were fighting a blight, she realized she’d need to seek him out. Only she had no way of knowing where he was sleeping, or if he was even in his own room.

She quietly snuck out of her room and looked down the hallway. It was empty, only the sound of the servants or guards moving somewhere ahead made the slightest of noises. She walked softly through the hall and quickly realized this was a foolish errand. She could just as easily awaken a grumpy qunari as she could find Cullen. A familiar wet nose brushed along her bare leg and she looked down to see Charger standing dutifully beside her.

“Want to help me, boy?” she asked the mabari who whined in response and then hung his tongue out. “Ok, help me figure out which room he’s in.”

Charger barked and took off in a run, Dria had to rush to keep up with him. He came to stop in front of a door and sat, looking at his mistress with pride. Dria stopped to catch her breath. This was it, on the other side of that door was Cullen.  _ Maker, what was she thinking just coming to his room this time of night? Would he even want to see her? _ He didn’t seem interested in talking to her earlier. Something had him upset, more than just the barrier or magic it seemed. This was stupid, she should just go back to her room before she made a fool of herself.

Dria fought internally with herself for several minutes, even turning to leave more than once. She closed her eyes making a decision and knocked on the door. On the other side she could hear someone mumbling and shuffle towards the door. She cringed knowing she had woke him. The door creaked open.

“Dria?” Alistair yawned with tired confusion upon his face. “Something wrong?”

“Ugh, wrong ‘him’, Charger!” Dria groaned at her dog. “Sorry, Alistair.”

Alistair nodded, clearly half awake and closed the door mumbling a ‘G’night’ to her as he did.

Charger let out a whine and laid down. Dria sighed, that was that. She turned and began the journey back to her room.

“Psst.”

Dria turned to see Zevran peeking out of the door Alistair had opened.

“Zev?” she asked.

“Two doors down that way,” he indicated to the right with his head. “Have fun,” he winked at her and disappeared back into his room.

Dria made a mental note to kiss the elf tomorrow. She pulled on her sleep shirt to straighten it and took a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. She made her way to the door Zevran had indicated and knocked.

When the door opened, light shone from within indicating he had not yet gone to sleep. He simply looked at her, an annoyed look on his face.

She waited several moments for him to say anything before speaking, “Can I come in?”

Cullen sighed but stepped aside to let her enter. He closed the door behind her and then faced her.

“What is it that can’t wait until morning?” he questioned.

“Cullen, what’s wrong? I mean I know the barrier Connor was in probably triggered something, as did the spell, but it seems something more is bothering you,” Dria tried reaching for him but he stepped out of her grasp when she did.

“I don’t like being played a fool,” he growled.

“Ok, so who did that?” she was confused.

“You,” he glared. “Find someone else to string along.”

Dria raised her eyebrow, “And just how did I string you along?”

“I saw you with the other warden. I saw you take his hand in yours, I saw the way you spoke to each other. So what was I? Just a way to warm your bed while you were away from him?” Cullen began to pace.

Dria crossed her arms in front of him. “You’re an idiot, you know that? There’s nothing between me and Alistair. In fact he’s pining over the redhead in our group. I was  _ comforting _ Alistair because he’s my  _ friend _ and the Arl and his family are the closest thing Alistair has to his own family.”

Cullen stopped pacing and his face fell, “Really?”

“Yes. You should have just asked me instead of sitting in here brooding and then accusing me of lying,” she glared at him.

Cullen fell into the chair by the hearth with a thud, and put his head in his hands, “You’re right. It’s like...it’s like I see plotting wherever I look. I hear whispers, but no one is there. I see danger when there is none. I’m sorry,” he sighed, finally looking up at her. “Is that why you came here?”

“Partially,” Dria let her arms drop beside her. “I missed you,” she looked around as she spoke. “How did you manage your own room?”

“The nightmares,” he answered. “I thought it was best I not disturb anyone else.” He rose and walked to her. “I’m sorry.”

“So you said,” she looked into his eyes and then wrapped her arms around him, falling into him as she felt his arms surround her.

“Stay,” his nose dug through her hair as he rested his head on hers.

“Just for a little while,” she replied, feeling herself relax in his arms.

She stepped out of his arms and looked around the room. His armor was sitting in the corner but she noticed he’d placed his sword by the bed, easily within reach of his pillow. A tray showed his dinner only barely eaten on a table by the fire, along with a flower sitting on that same table.

“How are you doing with what happened today?” She asked, looking at him with such care. She didn’t know him well, but he seemed so lost sometimes. She hoped she was able to provide him at least some of the comfort that he’d given her.

Cullen shrugged, “I’ll manage.”

“You barely ate,” she frowned and reached for his hand.

“I was too upset to eat earlier,” he sighed.

“Well do you think now that we cleared the air?”

Cullen nodded, “I can try.”

She took the other seat by the table and watched as he fidgeted a little with the food, his mind seeming to be elsewhere.

“Cullen?”

He looked up, and she shuddered at the tenderness she saw in them. It was a major contrast to the anger that had been there earlier. She wondered if this was a side of the warrior anyone else saw, how deeply he could care for others.

He reached for the flower, and rolled it between his thumb and fingers. She realized it was an Andraste’s Grace, although a little wilted.

“I found this during our walk. I thought to give it to you, but I fear I waited too long,” he gave her an awkward smile.

“It’s beautiful,” she sighed trying to remember the last time a man, or anyone, gave her a flower.

Cullen bashfully held it out to her, making himself all the more endearing to her. Dria took it and sniffed. It was wilting, but it still held the fragrance and she smiled as its aroma filled her nose. Dria pushed some of her hair behind her ear and placed the flower there as well.

Cullen smiled a smile of pure happiness as he saw her do that, “It pales in comparison to your beauty,” 

Dria felt her face flush at the compliment. She thought this was just a way to have some fun, seek some comfort in dark times, but the more time she spent with Cullen the more she dreaded having to say goodbye to him so soon. He clearly had his demons to deal with, literal ones in his case. But through that she could see a kind man who wanted to protect and serve. She saw someone with honor that, if she wasn’t careful, she could find herself falling in love with.  _ That would be foolish given you won’t ever see him after three days from now. _

Cullen reached for her hand and gently pulled her to him when she took his. He guided her into his lap and placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he wrapped his arms around her. His head rested on her shoulder as he closed his eyes and breathed deep.

“The memories won’t leave me,” he said so softly she barely heard him. Her fingers combed into his hair so she could gently scrape his scalp with her nails and he hummed in approval. “But when I’m with you, they are quieter.”

Dria kissed his forehead as she continued massaging his head, “I’m happy I can do that for you.”

Cullen gave her another gentle squeeze and then reached for his dinner, keeping one arm around her to hold her on his lap as he did. Dria leaned her head against the top of his and just enjoyed the feeling of being held and being needed. The road and the battles would come soon enough, but for now she could pretend they didn’t exist and just relish the feeling of peace she felt at this moment.

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The shore of Lake Calenhad appeared in the distance, less than an hour’s walk from where they stood. Dria had promised Isolde that their party would accompany the Templars back to the Circle before they continued onto the dwarven kingdom. Dria stretched and let out a tired groan as she continued on towards the lake. She only got two steps before someone pulled her behind a tree.

She smiled upon seeing Cullen’s face so close to hers. He had her trapped with his hands pressed along the tree on either side of her. They’d barely had a chance to spend a moment together since leaving Redcliffe. Finding a secluded spot proved more difficult with the larger party.

“I was hoping for a goodbye kiss,” he smirked and leaned in for said kiss.

She gave it happily, feeling his soft lips press against hers. The way it molded against hers, how his tongue ran gently along her lower lip. She memorized how it felt when his tongue slipped into her mouth, how his hands wrapped around her waist and held her closer, how her fingers felt in his hair. She promised herself she’d remember this kiss all her days.

“Please be safe,” Dria pleaded with him as her fingers continued to brush in his hair.

“For you, I will,” Cullen answered, giving her one more kiss before heading to catch up with the party.

Forty five minutes later, Dria watched as the boat carrying the templars and the mages left the shore.

“Will you tell me which one now?” Leliana asked her as the party left Calenhad for Orzammar.

“Nope,” Dria smirked, laughing when her friend pouted.


	3. I Will Remember You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blight continues and Dria finds she misses Cullen. She starts writing letters to him as a way to sort through the events of the battle with the Darkspawn. She finds she is becoming stronger, until she makes a decision that costs her something precious.

****

_ Cullen --  _

_ It’s been nearly 5 weeks since our goodbye. Orzamarr was a mess. The deep roads were enough to give me nightmares for years. In the end, it was worth it as we have the dwarves commitment to the treaties. _

_ I still think of you constantly. Am I a fool for that? Perhaps to you this was just a passing fancy. Perhaps you’ve already thrown this letter into the fire and haven’t even read this far. There’s nowhere for you to send me a return letter, so I guess I’ll just have to hope and assume that you feel as I do. It’s silly really. Less than a week together, but I swear I can still smell you on my clothes. I still imagine the feel of your arms around me as you held me in sleep. I can still remember how your felt when we laid together. I can still hear your cries of passion in my ear. _

_ I wish I knew I’d get to see your face just once more in this lifetime. It felt nice to have someone understand what it was like to lose so much, that I could talk to about my pain that just got it. I wish you hadn’t gone through what you did, but it was comforting to be able to share that and not feel so alone in my grief for a while. _

_ Dria _

“Is that a letter to your mystery man,” Alistair elbowed her with a teasing grin.

“Maker, does  _ everyone _ know about that?” she hid her blushing cheeks in her hands. She was going to kill Zevran.

“We don’t have a lot to talk about during these long walks,” Alistair shrugged. “Besides you had the biggest grin on your face while you were writing. I figured it was either him or you were plotting Howe’s demise.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t that me nice,” she smirked.

“So which one was he? I’m betting the one with long brown hair,” Alistair poked at the fire to bring it back to life as he spoke.

“I’m not telling. I need at least  _ one _ secret around here,” she sighed as Cullen’s face came to mind.

“I’ll get it out of you eventually,” Alistair teased as he poked her with the same stick he’d used on the fire.

“Stop,” Dria giggled.

Alistair chuckled, but his demeanor quickly became more somber. “Do you think we can really save the Arl?” He looked over to the notes that Zevran and Leliana had returned with. While the rest of them went into Orzammar, the two rogues had gone to Denerim in search of information on someone named Brother Genitivi who supposedly had information on where they could locate Andraste’s ashes. They didn’t find him, but instead some fake assistant. After killing him, the rogues gathered up any notes they could find pertaining to the ashes and rushed back to the group.

“I hope so,” Dria nodded, picking up one of the notes. “I think this one is our best lead for now.”

“Haven,” Alistair scratched at his beard. It had grown thick during their stay in Orzammar. He had told Dria he couldn’t wait to shave it, that was until Leliana made a passing comment about how much she liked it.

“Morrigan located it on the map. I’ve never even heard of it, but there it was,” she shrugged.

“Thanks for doing this for me,” Alistair smiled.

“I’m doing this for Fereldan, not you. I barely like you,” she squealed loudly as Alistair tackled her to the ground in response and tickled her sides, his laughter mixing in with hers.

“Some of us are trying to sleep,” Morrigan grumbled from her spot in the camp.

“Some of us are grumpy witches,” Alistair retorted as he helped Dria up off the ground.

“One of these days she may turn you into that toad,” Dria teased.

“Just don’t let Charger eat me if that happens,” Alistair winked. “Night Dria.”

“Night,” Dria replied, clicking her tongue for Charger to follow her to her tent.

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“I’m curious to see how you surface dwellers got a golem up here in the first place,” Oghren said as he eyed the control rod they had received from a passing merchant.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to let the drunk dwarf hold that thing?” Alistair said quietly to Dria.

“Keeps his hands too busy to drink,” she shrugged. “Besides you know you’re dying to see this golem. You’re practically giddy.”

“Oh, like you aren’t,” Alistair playfully elbowed her. “But do we have time for this?”

“We have to pass by Honnleath to get to Haven anyway,” she shrugged. 

Both Wardens froze and shared a look. Dria could feel that familiar thrumming in her nerves. 

“Darkspawn!” They called out to the rest of the party as Dria and Alistair drew their swords and ran towards the village.

As they edged closer they could see the foul creatures terrorizing the town. People were being torn from their homes and set upon by the beasts. It was a farming town, and they wouldn’t be equipped to fight them properly. The party quickly rushed forward to save as many people as they could. The two Wardens rushed the town center where the majority of darkspawn seemed to be congregating. Perhaps because of the number of creatures around, they didn’t seem to sense Alistair and Dria until they were nearly upon them. 

Dria swung her sword and decapitated the closest one to her. Another rushed her, she parried, ducked and caught it in the gut with her blade. Something caught her eye to the left.

“Leliana, mage to the left,” she yelled out.

Three arrows quickly followed and the mage collapsed dead. Dria nodded her thanks to Leliana and continued to fight. She heard screams for help come from a nearby farm house and took off in a run towards that. She smashed through the door and took note of the scene in front of her. Two people lay dead on the floor - a man and a woman. Beside them were several hurlocks and other darkspawn. Along the wall stood three young people-- a woman looking to be in her young twenties, a boy of around sixteen and a girl around fourteen or fifteen. Dria did a double take at the boy and realized immediately whose family this was. One of the hurlocks growled, drawing her from her thoughts. 

“When I engage, make a run for the door,” she instructed the three of them.

Without waiting for a response, Dria charged the darkspawn. The two smaller ones were cut down easily without her breaking stride. The hurlocks took more energy to fight though. She saw the siblings moving out of the corner of her eye and knew they were going to get safely out. 

The four hurlocks surround her, their attention drawn from the humans to the warden before them. Dria waved her sword in front of her, parrying what she could. She felt a sharpness in her hip and knew she’d been stabbed. She swung her sword in the direction of her attacker and hit hard enough to dismember it’s arm from the elbow down. Blood splattered her face as she did. Another hit to her arm had her cry out. She realized what a fool she’d been to engage them all alone, but knowing she’d saved those three people made her sacrifice seem worth it. She was determined to damage the hurlocks as much as possible before going down. She swung again and managed to decapitate the previously maimed one. The remaining three started backing her towards the wall, one slicing her in the chest, right through her armor. Dria yelped in pain. She started saying a silent prayer to the Maker. As if he’d heard her, the hurlocks caught one fire before her eyes. They ran in a panic before hit with another fireball and dropped dead. Dria looked to see who her savior was and gave Morrigan a weak smile as she felt herself collapse to the ground.

“Gd shw,” she mumbled as she felt her bleeding increase.

“Wynne, hurry,” Morrigan called out the door as she rushed to Dria’s side. “Fool woman. You shouldn’t have run in here alone.”

Dria only nodded in agreement as she clung to Morrigan’s arm to try to keep from completely falling over. She let out a loud breath as the warmth of healing magic enveloped her. Wynne’s hands were soon on her, healing the wound across her chest first before moving on the the stab wound on her back. She could feel her energy start to return and her breathing became easier. After several minutes Wynne’s healing magic disappeared and was replaced with a regeneration spell.

“Thanks, both of you,” Dria smiled warmly as she stood back up and picked up her sword, strapping it to her back. “Are there more outside?”

“No, we’ve managed to kill the horde,” Morrigan answered.

“Any other injuries?” Wynne asked.

Dria shook her head, taking a mournful look at the older couple dead on the floor. “Just wish we had arrived in time to save them.”

“There are plenty more you did save, think of them,” Morrigan tried to comfort her.

She nodded, closing her eyes to hide the tears, dreading the letter she knew she needed to write. She looked for the siblings but not finding them she approached Alistair.

“Did you see…”

“They ran, probably as far from here as they could get,” Alistair replied, knowing what she was going to ask before she finished. Dria nodded and walked off to take a look at the golem sitting in the center of town.

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Dria sat by the fire, blank piece of paper on her lap, as she watched the golem, Shale, walk around the camp. It had been an odd day, the golem being the least odd part of it. There was a possessed cat, and an odd puzzle she had to solve. Cullen had failed to mention how insane his townmates had been. She let out a sigh, trying to find the words for the paper. Her companions seemed to have picked up on her mood and gave her a wide berth, except Charger who laid by her feet.

_ Cullen -- _

_ I hope you read this. There’s no easy way to say this. We went to Honnleath today and found it overrun with Darkspawn. Your siblings escaped but I’m afraid your parents did not. _

_ Cullen, I’m so sorry. If we had been their earlier, maybe if we hadn’t stopped on the road so long they’d still be alive. I wish I could have saved them but they were gone by the time we got to them. I’m so so sorry, I really don’t know what more to say. _

_ I wish I could be there for you as you read this.  _

_ -Dria _

Dria folded the paper and addressed it to mail out before they left the area tomorrow. She put it in her pack and then stared into the fire, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“Dria?” Alistair approached from behind and took a seat beside her on the log. “You ok?”

“That family today…”

“The one you nearly died to save?”

Dria nodded, “That was the Templar’s family. I mean I didn’t know when I ran in there, but when I saw them I knew.”

“I’m sorry,” Alistair put an arm around her. “No wonder you were so shaken.”

Dria put her head on his shoulder and let the tears fall silently while her friend held her.

“If we’d been there sooner...if we hadn’t stopped to swim at lunch…” she gulped back tears.

“Hey, this isn’t your fault. This is what we’re fighting for, to protect as many moms and dads and kids as we can, but there’s going to be losses,” Alistair tried to reassure her.

Dria just nodded and wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

“Is it selfish of me for asking to go looking for these ashes?” Alistair’s face fell.

Dria shook her head, “I was only half joking before when I said it wasn’t for you. My family was killed for a reason, and it wasn’t just so Howe could name himself Teyrn. I think it’s connected to the Arl being poisoned. Loghain is trying to eliminate anyone that could stand in his way of putting either himself or his daughter on the throne, and I’m not all that sure Queen Anora is safe from him. He can’t be allowed to succeed.”

Alistair nodded, “Thanks just the same.” 

They sat quietly for a few minutes watching the fire and enjoying the quiet.

“I gave Leliana the rose,” Alistair grinned at her.

“How’d that go?”

Alistair blushed, “She kissed me.”

Dria smiled at how innocent her friend was. She found it endearing. “I’m happy for you.”

“Me too,” Alistair looked dreamy into the fire.

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_ Cullen -  _

_ I’m back in Redcliffe and it brings so many memories of you to my mind. I know it’s been over a month since I wrote last with all the travels I’ve been on. I wonder if you even think of me anymore. Sitting her in the Arl’s home I can’t help but think of you and that night here.  _

_ I remember sitting up talking with you about so much. The stories you shared with me about your family. Sharing how you felt about serving as a Templar. It was so clear how much it means to you. I loved listening to you talk until we both just fell asleep in each others arms. I miss feeling you hold me. I miss the security in being wrapped in your arms. I miss the feel of your kiss. _

_ Am I deluding myself? Probably. Most likely you’re not even reading any of this, wishing this foolish girl would leave you be. _

_ -Dria _

Arl Eagan walked down the hall to his office, Alistair following alongside. He looked happier than Dria had seen him in a long time, the Arl awakening seeming to lift a weight off Alistair’s shoulders. Dria watched them pass and then headed to the kitchens to see if she could find some food.

She entered and found Zevran apparently had the same idea. He sat on a stool with an apple while charming the cook beside him, based on the blush on her cheeks.

“Ah, my warden. I was going to come find you. Join me,” he nudged a stool with his foot. 

Dria happily sat beside him. Of all the companions, next to Alistair, Zevran was her favorite. He was someone who she found was easy to talk to and was honest with his thoughts when she needed advice. He was a flirt, but she’d realized it was just his nature and he was harmless she enjoyed his company. She’d been wary at first, remembering her brother’s friend who always seemed to have a new young woman convinced he was in love with her every month. Zevran wasn’t like that though. He seemed to care more about what she and the other companions needed than his own self.

“What were you going to find me for?” Dria asked as she grabbed a biscuit from the counter and popped a piece in her mouth.

Zevran reached into his pocket and then opened his hand, letting a chain fall from it with a small locket attached to it. It twirled in the air hanging from his finger.

Dria’s eyes grew large. She put down the biscuit and reached out to touch the necklace. “Is this Alistair’s?”

Zevran nodded, “Si, I believe so. I thought you would like to gift it to him.” He took her hand and dropped the necklace into her hand.

“Where’d you find this? And why don’t you want to give it to him?” She asked.

“I was researching…”

“You mean snooping,” she teased.

Zevran touched the side of his nose with his finger and winked, causing Dria to chuckle. “To answer your second question, I believe he will need some cheering up today.”

“Why? He seemed fine when I saw him just a while ago,” Dria tilted her head to the side.

“I believe his discussion with the Arl will change that,” Zevran took another bite of his apple.

“How do you...How do you know so much?” 

“Research,” he chuckled. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“Ok, a bit antsy to get find the archdemon and end this blight already,” she replied.

“So not sitting around thinking about golden eyed templars?” he smirked at her.

“You know you really didn’t have to tell  _ everyone _ about that,” she gave him a hard look, although her tone showed she didn’t mean any harm.

Zevran shrugged and took another bite of her apple.

“He’s probably forgotten about me by now,” she picked up the biscuit again.

“Then he is a fool,” Zevran said matter of factly.

“You’ve said that before,” she smiled.

“Si, and it still applies. I do not think you would be so easy to forget, mi amiga,” Zevran shrugged. “I know when all this,” his hand circled in the air, “is over, I will not forget our friendship.”

“Thanks, Zev,” she warmly touched his arm.

“The other templars probably know your name well, hearing him cry it out at night in his bunk,” Zevran chuckled.

“ZEV!” Dria turned beet red with embarrassment and threw her remaining biscuit at the elf who laughed hard in response.

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Dria walked back through the halls feeling lighter than earlier, her worries gone thanks to her time with Zevran in the kitchen. As she turned the corner towards her room she spotted Alistair sitting on the floor beside her door. Charger was lying down beside him, his head in Alistair’s lap. He looked forlorn as he pet the mabari’s head. Alistair looked up, hearing her footsteps and stood up.

“Are you ok?” she asked as she neared.

“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, looking down the hall as if expecting someone.

“Of course,” she held out her arm to indicate he should lead the way.

He was silent, hands at his side and looking down as they walked. It was clear he was bothered by something, but Dria wanted to give him the time he needed until he was ready to talk. He led them around the horse barn to a secluded bench where he finally sat. She joined him and watched her friend patiently.

“Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?” she asked softly.

“Not really,” Alistair shrugged. “I’d rather just forget about it. I just had to get away from there for a bit.”

“Sure, ok,” Dria nodded and took his hand giving it a gentle squeeze, that he returned. “Oh, I have something that might cheer you up.” She reached into her pocket. “Close your eyes.”

Alistair did as told and waited as she took his hand and placed it in his hand much like Zevran had with her. 

“Ok, look,” she watched him, hopeful this would pull him from his funk.

Alistair looked at the locket in his hand with awe. “Is this my mother’s locket?”

Dria nodded, “Zev found it.”

“Do I want to know how?” 

“Probably not,” she smirked.

“Wow. Just...that you remembered means a lot. I’m not used to people listening to what I’m saying,” he continued to look at the necklace. “Thanks.”

“Of course. We all care about you, Alistair,” Dria felt good watching how happy he was. “I bet even some small part of Morrigan does.”

Alistair looked at her in disbelief and shrugged. “I thought I’d lost this for good. Having this back means more than I can say.”

“I’m glad,” Dria leaned against him. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I do, but this is something I need to work through on my own right now. But thanks for just being here,” his thumb ran over the locket as he spoke, his eyes never leaving it.

“Anytime,” she replied, closing her eyes and just resting. “So any idea where to next?”

“Eamon is calling a landsmeet, so we should head to Denerim soon,” he sighed.

“At least it’ll give us a chance to finally face Loghain,” she tried to encourage him.

“Yeah,” the sadness in his voice palpable.

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_ Cullen - _

_ I screwed up big time. I did what I thought was right for Ferelden, and lost my best friend in the process. I don’t know what to do but cry. I haven’t felt this alone since the night my family died. I wish you were here to hold me and assure me things will be all right. Right now I’m not sure it will be ever again. _

_ -Dria _

Dria folded up the letter to send and looked around at her inn room. After the disaster that had been the Landsmeet, it was clear Alistair did not want her at the Arl’s home, and since, by her own choosing, he was to be King, she had no choice but to leave. She wiped at the tears on her cheek when she heard a knock at the door. She opened the door to find Zevran, Morrigan and Leliana on the other side.

“We thought you wouldn’t want to be alone,” Leliana touched Dria’s arm affectionately as they entered her room.

“He still angry?” Dria asked, already knowing the answer. She could see Alistair’s face clearly in her mind. The hurt turning to anger in his expression. How his words cut her to the bone.  _ Never talk to me again. _

“You know Alistair, he can be emotional. I’m sure after he’s cooled off he’ll come around,” Leliana tried to reassure her.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I just...Anora’s no better than Loghain, I couldn’t back her on the throne,” Dria felt the tears start up again.  _ Why did they have to make it her decision? Hadn’t she lost enough, to have to lose Alistair too? _ To her surprise, Morrigan put an arm around Dria’s waist. Morrigan was not one to offer physical signs of comfort, so for her to do so said volumes.

“Do you think…,” she sniffled, “do you think you can talk to him? Tell him I’m sorry?”

“I have. I will again,” Zevran nodded.

“As will I,” Lelian offered. “Did you get information from Riordan?”

Dria nodded, “It’s not good. The Grey Warden that submits the fatal blow will also die.”

Leliana put her hands over her mouth in surprise while Morrigan gasped. Zevran’s expression was unreasonable. 

“What is the plan?” he asked.

“Riordan will make the blow as he’s the most senior. If not, it’ll come down to me or Loghain. The vengeful part of me wants to order Loghain to do it anyway. It’s a more honorable death then he deserves though, so I don’t know,” Dria sighed.

“We will be by your side no matter what,” Zevran reached over and grasped her hand, looking into her eyes. 

“Thank you, all of you,” Dria nodded, feeling the tears well up again, but this time at the joy of having such dear friends despite her broken heart.

_ Cullen-- _

_ This may be the last time I write you. We’ve found the Archdemon and are preparing to fight it tonight. I don’t know what this evening will bring, but it may be my last. _

_ Thank you for being a confidant when I needed it. Thank you for providing me a distraction from the Blight for even just a few days. Thank you for sharing a small part of you with me. Thank you for putting up with all my letters to you. _

_ I hope things are better at the Circle for you and I hope you have a long and happy life. _

_ -Dria _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gets us through DA:O. DA:A coming up in the next chapter.
> 
> So what did you think so far? Does it make sense why she'd write the letters? Did I blow through the events too quickly or did it make sense?  
> Feedback is gold to me.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr: [Warden Ari](http://wardenari.tumblr.com/)


	4. Need You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dria's return to Highever is a disaster, and she's unwanted in Denerim.  
> Vigil's Keep proves lonesome, and depression begins to set in until a new companion reaches out to her. Things are slowly improving, and then she gets the letter she's been hoping for from Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW - for graphic death in the start of the 3rd section

Dria looked around at the room she’d been assigned at Highever. She wasn’t sure if she’d be ok being back at the sight of her family’s massacre, but now that she was here, despite the horrors of the past, she felt like she could breath. This was still home. The room she was in was nice. A large, soft bed, as any noble might expect, paintings on the wall of long gone ancestors, and a warm fire in the fireplace. Charger even had a small pet bed of his own. She understood, and even appreciated, not being in the family quarters. That had too many bad memories. But she thought Fergus might have wanted her to be closer to him. To have time for the siblings to reconnect, but instead she was in a completely different wing than he. _Maybe the other rooms were damaged by Howe_ , she thought as way of explanation. Except for an awkward greeting where he seemed preoccupied instead of happy to see her, she hadn’t seen her brother since arriving two days earlier.

“Shall we go exploring?” she asked Charger who wuffed in agreement. “Alright, lets go.”

She wandered the familiar hallways of her childhood home. Char marks on some of the stone walls were the only reminders of that fateful night. Several rooms were still torn apart, but it was clear that Fergus was working on restoring Highever back to its’ glory. She stopped seeing a familiar face.

“Ser Gilmore?”

The red haired man turned around. He had a long, ugly scar down the side of his face and was missing an eye. Dria couldn’t help but gasp at seeing his injuries.

“Teyrna Cousland. I’d heard you had returned, so good to have you back at Highever,” he nodded his head. “Are you here to stay?”

Dria shook her head. “Just a visit. I’m sure the Grey Wardens will have me assigned somewhere soon. I’m glad to see you survived.”

“As am I with you, my Ladyship,” he gave her a warm smile. He had started squiring for the knights of Highever when he was eight. He and Dria had practically grown up together. Her first crush had even been on him, thought nothing ever came of it. Seeing him alive and still serving the family filled her with the warmth that things would be ok after all.

“Have you seen the Teyrn?” she inquired.

“I believe he is in his office at the moment,” Ser Gilmore replied. “I must take my leave My Ladyship, but welcome home.”

“Thanks,” she smiled in reply and walked off towards her father’s old office, assuming that was where her brother would be found.

What she found when she got there though were workers pulling down tacky looking wall hangings that she could only assume had been put there by Rendon Howe.

“Have you seen the Teyrn?” she asked several of the men there but only got a head shake in the negative in reply.

“Well, let’s try the kitchens,” she said to Charger who seemed to perk up at the idea of food.

Dria stopped at the door and looked towards the pantry. That had been the last place she had seen her parents. The grip on her heart was immediate and tears formed as she tried to steady her breathing. Charger nudged her hand with his head and the softness of his fur helped her calm back down.

“Are you alright, My Ladyship?” one of the kitchen staff asked her. It felt odd not knowing anyone on staff here. She used to know everyone’s name, even the names of the families of some of them. But, like her parents, they were all at the Maker’s side now. The faces here were all strangers to her.

Dria nodded, “Some water, perhaps.” She drank down the offered mug and felt better for it. “What is your name?”

“Moira, My Ladyship,” the woman answered.

“Nice to meet you, Moira,” Dria nodded. “I thank you for the drink. I was hoping perhaps for a biscuit, and maybe something for Charger.”

The woman scurried off and returned a moment later with a basket filled with several biscuits. Enough for her and Charger both. Dria nodded her thanks and then looked around the hallway deciding on her next destination.

“How about we visit Ma and Da?” she suggested and headed off to the family crypt.

When she entered she found her missing brother. Fergus was knelt in silent prayer before the markers for Orana and Oren. Dria waited silently in respect to allow him to finish. Charger, however, seemed to have no qualms about interrupting the man and rushed across the room, pressing his head under the Teyrn’s arm.

Fergus looked at Charger for a moment and then turned his head to see Dria. She offered him a kind smile, but his face became twisted in anger when he saw her.

“How dare you come here,” he growled.

“Fergus?” She didn’t understand. Why would she not be welcome here of all places? Before she could ask, Fergus was shoving her out the door and shutting it behind her.

“I…,” she looked at Charger uncertain what she had done to elicit such a reaction. She felt that same familiar hurt she’d been carrying over Alistair resurface, but now about Fergus. No longer feeling like exploring she returned to her room. She wished desperately that one of her companions were here with her, but they’d all scattered back to their lives after the Archdemon was defeated, leaving her alone.

She stayed in her room the remainder of the day and returned to Denerim early the next morning. Denerim might not be home, but it was more of it to her than Highever was now.

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Dria wiped the blood off her sword and looked at the fallen creature beside her. She’d only returned to Denerim for a day and the King sent her to Vigil’s Keep to establish a Grey Warden base. She arrived to find it under attack from darkspawn.

“They talk?”

“Not before now that I know of,” Dria answered the blonde without looking away from the corpse.

“I think I’m going to need some of your alcohol,” he held his hand over his eyes as he spoke.

“Get your own, mage,” Oghren replied.

Dria sighed and resheathed her sword. “Let’s just get through this and I’ll buy you both a drink.”

“Deal,” they answered in unison.

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Dria entered the Warden Commander’s office, well _her_ office now, and looked around. Charger was happily asleep in front of the fireplace. The heat from the hearth warming the entire room. She’d been here nearly two months and still was just as on edge as when she had arrived to a Darkspawn invasion. She was uncertain if it was because of how odd it felt to have a Warden stronghold in a place whose halls she used to run in as a child, or if it was from lack of sleep. Her dreams were haunted by the memory of the Archdemon fight and seeing Loghain die. She hadn’t been the Teyrn’s biggest fan, but his death was brutal, the striking blow releasing so much power that it tore the flesh from his limbs. She could still hear his death scream in her head.

She roamed the halls at night, unable to sleep more than a few hours, kept awake by the heaviness in her chest that never left. The intense loneliness she felt was more crushing than an ogre’s grasp. She seemed to not belong anywhere. She had been deserted by those she’d held dear.

Leliana’s prediction had been wrong. Alistair had not forgiven her and, except for the required few words to declare her “Hero of Ferelden”, hadn’t spoken to her since the night of the Landsmeet. She was certain he found the irony of forcing her to live in the home of the man that killed her family delicious. Being surrounded by all things _Howe_ only increased that ache of loneliness.

Fergus was alive, but all fantasies she had about how they would rebuild Highever together, how they’d help each other heal disappeared in the two weeks she’d spent at her family’s home. Fergus barely spoke to her while she was there. Like Alistair, he seemed agitated by her presence. When she did see him, he would shoot her strange looks that she couldn’t decipher. If he saw her headed his way, he’d turn and walk in the opposite direction. She finally gave up and returned to Denerim, only to be promptly sent to Vigil’s Keep by the King.

Her companions all scattered after the Blight, and even though Oghren was here, the two of them had never been particularly close. Dria was surprised to have seen him here in fact, much less to join the wardens. She’d also acquired a quip-making mage, Anders, and her brother’s former partner-in-crime, Nathaniel Howe. When word got out that the wardens were making a base at Vigil’s Keep, dozens of men arrived to join the cause. Despite having so many people around, she still felt isolated.

She gave Charger one last look, envious of how comfortable the mabari was already, and then headed to her desk. Once there, she found a stack of correspondence. Burying herself in her work provided the only respite from her despair. The first few were requesting her aid in land matters. She put those aside to give to Varel to let him deal with them. The fourth letter she opened brought a smile to her face.

“What’s got you so cheery,” Oghren grunted as he entered.

“It’s from Zev. He’s made a bit of progress in his attempt at taking on the Crows. He sounds happy, even though he’s in the middle of a one man war,” Dria handed him the letter to see for himself.

“Good on the elf,” Oghren chuckled. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” Dria nodded. “There’s some issues with sealing up the tunnel from the Darkspawn. I was hoping you could go give them some help.”

“Because I’m a dwarf,” Oghren glared.

“No, because unlike just about everyone else here, you’ve _actually_ fought the Darkspawn. You know what they're capable of and can probably give some good advice down there,” Dria took back Zevran’s letter and stuck it in her desk drawer for safe keeping. “Just, please do it without giving me a hassle.”

“Fine, fine,” Oghren held his hands up.

“Commander,” a young soldier entered and saluted. Dria returned the salute and waited for the young man to continue. “Ser, riders approach. They have the King’s colors.”

“Thank you,” Dria nodded dismissing the man.

“Maybe the pike-twirler finally came to his senses?” Oghren suggested and followed Dria out of the office.

Dria tried to keep her nerves in check as they walked. The butterflies were firmly in flight in her gut at the thought of seeing Alistair in just a few minutes. She imagined him looking at her bashfully and scratching his hair like he did when he was nervous. She pictured him asking if they could just move on and be friends again and then pictured them laughing over an ale and cards in her office. She entered the courtyard and found Varel along with Anders and Nathaniel waiting already for the approaching party. Dria stood in the lead and watched as three riders entered the courtyard, two carrying the flags of the Therin family crest. They dismounted and approached Dria and her party.

She bit back the nervous energy when the middle rider removed their helmet. All of that hope crashed to the ground when a woman with short dark hair was revealed instead of the King.

“Warden Commander,” she nodded to Dria who returned the gesture. “I am Rylock and I come by order of the King to report how things are faring.”

Dria heard someone shifting behind her as she replied, “Rylock, I can arrange for a tour if it would be helpful. We are in need of stone to repair damage to the retaining wall. Other than that, we are slowly rebuilding our forces and progressing well.”

Rylock nodded but seemed to be paying attention to something behind Dria rather than to the Warden Commander.

“Commander, that man behind you is an escaped apostate. He is dangerous and I formally request you stand aside while I take him into custody to face justice,” Rylock’s steely gaze shifted back to Dria.

“What you know about justice could fit a thimble. You couldn’t...Oh why bother,” she heard Anders groan behind her.

“Anders is a Grey Warden and under my command. You have no authority to touch him,” she turned and gave Anders a quick glance as she spoke. His shoulders, which had been slumped, straightened as he realized he wasn’t being turned over.

“The chantry…” Rylock began.

“Has no authority here,” Dria finished for the woman. “Now you can gather what information you need, feed and water your horses and ride back to Denerim, or you can just leave now, but either way, it will not be with any of my wardens.”

Dria met Rylock’s stern glare and waited until the other woman finally backed down. Dria signalled for the horsemaster to take the horses to the stables and then turned to Varel.

“Please show our guests whatever they need for their reports.”

Varel nodded in reply and then began speaking to Rylock and her party. Dria turned and headed back towards her office without another word, letting the disappointment settle in her heart. Fergus didn’t want her around, Alistair wanted nothing to do with her, and besides the occasional letters from Zevran, it appeared that she was alone for the long haul. She returned to her office, and Charger resumed his spot on the floor as she walked back to her desk.

She was in the middle of a long and seemingly unending letter from Lady Packton about what was _owed_ to her by promises made from Rendon Howe for her supporting him, when she heard a light cough. Dria looked up to see Anders standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He straightened up and walked in the room when she acknowledged him.

“Thank you, for earlier,” he gave her a genuine smile. “I knew sooner or later the templars would find me again. I never expected someone to say no to them.”

“You’re a Warden now,” Dria reassured him. “You will always be safe here from them. Despite her claims, they cannot touch you.”

Anders nodded and then tilted his head as he seemed to be studying her. Dria squirmed under his gaze.

“Join me for a drink? A game of cards perhaps?” he continued his examining look.

“I really have all these letters to…”

“I know loneliness when I see it, Commander,” he replied.

“I’m not…”

“Just a quick game, then you can return to your paperwork, I promise,” Anders held up his right hand to show he was telling the truth.

“It’s not appropriate for me to fraternize with those under me,” she sighed.

“We can talk about me under you later, Commander,” Anders raised an eyebrow, “but if you can’t spend time with us, then who can you talk to?”

Dria ignored the mage’s innuendos and looked into the fireplace in contemplation. “Very well, just one game.”

“Wonderful,” Anders clapped his hands together. “I’m hoping you can figure out Howe’s tells,” he chuckled as they walked out of the office.

Dria followed Anders to the mess hall and found Nathaniel, Oghren and Garevel sitting around one of the smaller tables. Anders grabbed a chair as they walked by it and placed it beside the other empty seat, presumably left for him.

“The Commander has agreed to join us tonight,” Anders explained.

“Still won’t keep me from taking all your money,” Nathaniel chuckled and gave Dria a wink.

All of a sudden she felt like her seven-year-old self dealing with her crush on her brother’s best friend. He was sixteen at the time and barely registered her presence, never mind never returning her interest. Dria hid her head behind her hair for a moment until she was sure the blushing stopped.

“Have you ever played Diamondback, Commander?” Garevel asked.

“Just Dria tonight, please,” she answered. “I have, my brother taught me.”

Nathaniel chuckled, “Then she really won’t be able to help you, mage.”

“Enough flirting, start dealing,” Oghren grumbled.

“He’s just grouchy because they ran out of his favorite ale in the kitchen,” Anders explained.

“That would explain why he was that way during the Blight,” Dria giggled starting to feel more relaxed.

“Oh har har,” Oghren responded. “Just for that, I’m taking all your money tonight.”

“You can try, but you won’t succeed,” Garevel chimed in.

“Whiskey?” Nathaniel asked as he poured a glass for himself. Dria nodded and accepted the drink.

“He’s just trying to get you drunk to help him win,” Anders teased.

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Dria stumbled entering her office hours later. One hand had turned into several games and one drink had been three. She could feel the slight buzz from the alcohol in her veins and it helped lighten her mood. While at first she had been annoyed at Anders insistence that she join them, not wanting sympathy, she was now grateful as she had enjoyed herself for the first time in months. Dria stopped to rub her faithful mabari’s belly before heading back to her desk.

She put paper to pen and wrote out a letter that she was sure would never be read like every other one she’d sent him.:

 _ ~~Ali~~ _ _Your Majesty_

_I’m sorry for keeping Loghain alive and making him a Warden. If I could take it back and make the sacrifice myself I would. I miss you, please please forgive me. I’ll do anything to make it right between us. Please._

_-Dria Cousland_

She sealed the letter and addressed it to the King. She looked at the pile of correspondence still waiting for her attention and decided she may as well dig in since sleep would probably not come tonight. She opened the envelope on the top of the pile and began to read.

_My dearest Dria ---_

_It is a relief to finally be able to write you after all this time, to finally have somewhere to send a letter. There’s so much I want to say to you._

_I have read every word you’ve sent me--more than once. They’ve kept me company through the long days here and brought me comfort in the lonely nights. Please, never again think yourself foolish. I, too, have recalled with great fondness our days together. There is very little that brings me joy anymore, but the memory of your smile is one that does._

_These nightmares still plague me. I miss having you to talk to about them, to have you there to soothe them away._

_I long to hold you in my arms again. Do wardens get leave? Would you be able to get away for even just a day? There is a small town, Evenshire, which is nearly half way between Amaranthine and Calenhad. We could meet there if you are able._

_I await your next letter._

_Yours,_

_Cullen_

Dria ran her fingertips over the written words. Words that he had written. The thought that he had touched this same paper with his bare hands reawakened a need in her for him. She had packed away all thoughts of him into a distant part of her heart. She had resigned herself to the fact that it was just a passing thing between them and that she needed to stop acting like a child with her first crush. But now, it appeared he had returned her feelings. He wanted to see her, enough that he’d even thought of a location to meet.

Dria practically floated back to her room as fantasies filled her mind of seeing him again. She readied herself to bed, feeling light for the first time in so long. As she laid in bed, looking at her ceiling, she wondered if she could actually do it. Could the keep function without her a few days? Who could she leave in charge of the wardens in her leave? These thoughts swirled around in her mind as she tried to fall asleep that night.

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Dria ran her sharpening stone along the blade of her sword. It always made her remember her father teaching her how to do just this. She could still hear his voice telling her that a dull sword would not protect her. She looked around the fire at her companions. Nathaniel and Oghren were in a quiet conversation. Anders, as usual, seemed happy just to be outdoors. He was stretched out, his hands behind his head on the ground, his feet near the fire, as he looked up at the stars. The party’s newest member, Justice, was near Nathaniel and Oghren, but he appeared to be just observing, rather than participating in the discussion.

It didn’t have the same feeling of family as her companions during the Blight, but she did feel a type of friendship with this lot. She smiled to herself and let her mind wander to amber eyes and curly hair.

She was pulled from her daydream at the sound of someone sitting beside her. She looked to her right and nodded in greeting to Nathaniel.

“You seemed lost in thought. Are you alright?” he asked quietly so the others wouldn’t hear.

Dria nodded, “Just thinking.”

“About something good, I hope then.” He took a sip from his cup.

“I was trying to figure out if Warden’s get leave,” she replied.

“Tired of us already?” he chuckled. Dria playfully elbowed him. “I would imagine so. But your the Commander, so you could make the rules anyway I suppose.”

“I guess,” Dria shrugged. “But then there’s the matter of who to leave in charge.”

“I was training to be Arl,” Nathaniel tilted his head slightly. “I’d be happy to do it for you.”

“You would?”

Nathaniel nodded, “I have the experience. I think I can keep things running for a few days. Going back to Highever?”

Dria shook her head. “I don’t think I’m wanted there.”

Nathaniel looked at her in surprise for a moment and then, seeming to be aware of it, returned his look to a more relaxed one. “Then where is it that you need to rush off to?”

Dria blushed slightly, “There’s a man…”

“Ah,” Nathaniel nodded in understanding. “Say no more. Just let me know when, and we can make the necessary arrangements.”

“Thanks,” she answered and settled in beside him. In their time together, she’d found a kinship with the man. Like her, he no longer fit in anywhere but the wardens. Even though he’d been in the Free Marches at the time, he was still despised by many just for the Howe name. The two of them had started to bond over their loneliness. It felt good to have a confidant once again.

Now that the matter of who to leave in charge was settled, she only needed to set up a date to meet up. Knowing that seeing Cullen again was going to be a reality soon brought butterflies to her stomach in nervous anticipation and excitement.

“So, where did you meet this mystery man?” Nathaniel leaned back along the log they were in front of.

“At Kinloch Circle.”

“He’s a mage?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

“A templar,” she replied.

“Better keep that information away from Anders,” Nathaniel smirked.

“Definitely,” Dria nodded. She stared off into the fire and smiled again, practically feeling his embrace already.

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Dria threw the saddle over her horse and began to cinch it up on the mare.

“Leaving for your romantic rendezvous so quickly?”

She looked over and noticed Nathaniel leaning against the door to her horse’s stall. She shook her head. “I’ve been ordered to Denerim to deliver a status report.”

“Wouldn’t a written report suffice,” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, “I’m sure the King has his reasons,” _like forgiving me._

She tested the saddle and reins one more time and, satisfied with the results, led the horse outside. Once upon her mare she gave Nathaniel one last look. “Consider this a test of how well you can keep things running in my absence.”

Nathaniel nodded and gave her a salute, “Safe travels, Commander.”

Dria gave him a return salute and beckoned her horse to move.

The ride to Denerim was uneventful. Alistair had done well to make the major routes as safe as possible, bandit attacks were now few and far between. Before she knew it she was entering the gates to the city. She rode up to the gates of the King’s castle.

“Hero,” the palace guard nodded, stepping aside to let her enter.

Dria led her horse to the stables and made her way to the palace entrance.

“Hero,” the guard greeted her. Dria wondered if anyone knew her actual name; all she ever heard lately was _Hero_ and _Commander_. The guard led her to an office with a large desk in the center. Dria took a seat in front of the desk and watched as the guard stood near the far wall.

Dria sat, giving no outward sign of her nervousness. She even had a gift in her bag for the King, a Grey Warden statuette, remembering the man’s habit of collecting statuettes during the Blight. She heard the door behind her open and shut and straightened herself, staring straight ahead. An older man, slightly balding took a seat at the desk.

“Warden-Commander, I’m Rigel. I’ll be getting your report for His Majesty,” he explained.

Dria’s heart dropped. “I…” she took a deep breath to steady her voice from shaking. “I thought I was going to talk to him directly.”

Rigel gave her a look that indicated he found her statement amusing. “My dear Hero, His Majesty is quite busy. I’m sure you understand he doesn’t have time to meet with all visitors to the palace.”

“Of...of course,” she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears of disappointment she could feel forming.

Rigel pulled out paper and dipped his pen in the inkwell. “Let us begin then.”


	5. A Kiss to Build A Dream On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dria finally reunite after nearly six months apart. They are nervous at first, but that goes away once they are alone in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is NSFW.  
> Thanks to [etaeternum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etaeternum) for help with this chapter. Check out her "Mother of Griffons" fics!!

Dria’s mind wandered as her horse trod along the path to Evenshire, her eyes focused on her hands as nerves took hold of her. The closer she got to the town, the more her mind began to worry. What if he changed his mind and wasn’t there? What if she was too different now and he didn’t want her anymore? What if he was disappointed with her? Everyone else seemed to leave her, why wouldn’t he?

She looked up, noticing that she’d entered the town without realizing. It was small, but larger than many of the places they’d stayed at during the Blight. The town was decorated for a festival of some type and people were milling around, looking happy and celebratory. The inn was easy to locate, the only building with three stories. She dismounted and led her horse to the stables beside it.

“Blessed day, m’lady,” the stable boy nodded to her as he took her horse’s reins.

“Thank you,” she nodded and watched as her horse was led into a stall. Dria took a deep breath and turned around to face the inn. _You can do this. You came all this way. It’ll be fine._

 _But what if it’s not_ \-- the not so pleasant voice in her head spoke up. _What if he takes one look at you in your dusty, dirty gear and heads off to find someone else. Look at you, all covered in mud from the road and you smell like horse._

Dria sighed and mustered up her courage. She berated herself for not stopping to wash in the lake she’d passed a few hours back. _Well, nothing to be done about it now._

She entered the inn, finding the downstairs, like many inns, was the dining area. It appeared to be empty when she took a quick glance around. She walked through the room and up to the innkeeper’s desk to inquire if he’d arrived yet when she heard a cough behind her.

Dria turned around and there he was. He was dressed in cloth pants and a light shirt, his hair was curled from the humidity, and the smile he gave her nearly melted her heart. She hadn’t realized until this moment _just_ how much she missed him. Everything since Howe’s attack had just been so damned hard and painful with the one exception of _him_. Cullen was the eye in the storm of her life. She didn’t even think to question how that happened so quick.

“Maker, you look more beautiful than I recalled,” Cullen smiled wide as his eyes roamed over her.

Dria blushed, partially from embarrassment at knowing she was covered in dirt from the road. She could feel it in her hair, she felt anything _but_ beautiful at this moment.

“I...uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and his cheeks darkened slightly. “I thought you might want a bath,” he signaled to someone behind her as he spoke, “a...alone I mean. Not that I...uh...Maker,” he mumbled. His nervousness actually helped calm her own nerves, knowing that she wasn’t alone in her uncertainty.

“That would be wonderful, Cullen.”

That was apparently just the right thing to say as he straightened up and finally looked her in the eyes, with a genuine smile upon his lips. “Great, let me take this,” he picked up her travel bag and led her up the stairs to a large room.

Along one wall there was a small fireplace with a fire going. In front of it a wooden tub had been placed. On the opposite side of the room stood a canopied bed with tall posts on each corner. The bed suddenly loomed large and seemed to be taking over the room the more Dria stared at it. “I hope this is ok? I mean...uh. Should I get you your own room? I shouldn’t have presumed, I...oh…”

Dria was drawn from her thoughts by his rambling. She’d been thinking how incredibly comfortable the bed looked, having not slept in something so nice since being in Denerim for the Landsmeet. Soreness from the ride drained her muscles and she felt like she could just climb into it and sleep forever. Images of Cullen holding her while she slept floated in her mind and just the thought made the butterflies take flight in her abdomen again. She hadn’t really realized how much she wanted things to go right with Cullen until she saw him again. This past year had been one loss after another, she wasn’t sure she could take losing him too.

Dria placed her hand on his arm to get his attention, “This will do just fine.” She leaned up, placed a kiss on his cheek and giggled when she noticed the dirt smudge she’d left behind.

“Ok, good. This is good, right,” he looked over at the door as the innkeeper and his wife entered carrying buckets of steaming water up and pouring them in the tub. “Ok, yes, um… I’ll uh, I’ll leave you to wash then. Yes, ok good. I’ll, um, I’ll wait downstairs. Oh, uh, you can leave your armor by the door and they’ll clean it for you.”

“Cullen,” Dria called to him as he was near the door on his way out. She walked to him when he stopped and turned around and took his hand in hers. “It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

Cullen’s face softened and his eyes landed on hers once again and he gently squeezed her hand, “I’ve missed you,too. I’ll be downstairs.”

Dria dropped his hand and watched until he was out the door. She took another look at the room. It was plain compared to what she had at Highever or even Vigil’s Keep, but it was clean and warm. She began the process of shedding her armor and sighed with relief as the last piece was removed. She placed it all beside the door as Cullen had instructed. Despite the leathers beneath, she had still managed to get dirt all over her. She slipped into the tub, feeling the warmth of the water seep into her skin. She let out a small moan as she fully seated herself and laid her head against the high back of the tub. After hours upon her horse, the water was a blessing. All her aches started melting away as the heat soothed her tired muscles. She smiled to herself remembering how nervous Cullen had been around her. Maybe she wasn’t the only one worried about how these next few days would go. She still wasn’t sure what he intended. Was this just to be a romp where they spent all their time in bed--not that she’d completely mind that--or did he intend to actually spend time just getting to be together? She really hoped for the latter. While sex with him was incredible, she hadn’t taken leave and traveled several hours just for that. It was for the look in his eyes when he looked at her, it was for how gentle he could be, and for how he trusted her with his private thoughts and fears. It made her feel like she could do the same with him.

 _Well, the sooner you get cleaned and downstairs, the sooner you’ll find out._ Dria reached for the nearby cloth and soap and started with her hair. By the time she’d finished washing the water was dark brown in color, nearly black. She stepped out of the tub and quickly wrapped the towel around her as the cooler air in the room hit her. She moved closer to the fire to help warm her as she dried. Dria walked over to the bag Cullen had carried upstairs for her and put on a new pair of smalls and a clean breast band and then pulled out a simple green dress. The sleeves were form fitting, with the rest of the dress flowing. She pulled it on, with a simple belt made of rope to tie a waist. Delilah Howe had helped her pick it out along with several other dresses. All her clothing had been picked by her mother before the Blight, and Dria had no clue what to look for when shopping. She was embarrassed since, as a Teyrn’s daughter, she’d never needed to do so before. But she was no longer a noble, she had to learn to barter and to budget. But Delilah, she was sweet, she helped teach Dria without ever talking down to her, and with her help, Dria had started to gather several beautiful, yet simple, dresses she could wear when not in uniform.

Dria brushed her hair before the mirror along the wall and took one more look at herself in the mirror. She noticed a vase filled with Andraste’s Grace. She chose one, and cut the stem short, then placed it behind her ear, her long hair covering the back of it. For the first time in so long, she felt like she saw herself looking back. Not a Grey Warden, but Dria Cousland.

“There you are,” she whispered with a smile to herself. Giving herself one more look she headed out the door and down the stairs.

Cullen practically leapt out of his seat when he saw her and rushed to greet her as her feet hit the bottom step. “Maker, look at you.”

Dria placed her hand in the crook of his arm when he offered it to him. “Do I look all right?”

“You look amazing,” he sighed and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I assume you’re hungry after your ride?”

“I am,” Dria nodded and then noticed he was leading her out of the inn, “Oh, we’re not eating here?”

“Perhaps another night, but I wanted to treat you tonight. I didn’t know how often either of us would be able to get away so I wanted tonight to be special. There’s a small restaurant nearby that the locals rave about.” He kept alternating between watching ahead and looking at her in her dress as he spoke. Dria noticed that he spoke of future reunions and she couldn’t help but smile, realizing she wasn’t the only one hopeful for more than one meeting. The idea that despite their positions, there could possibly be a true relationship started to take hold in her heart.  
  
Dria could hear music in the distance and people laughing as they passed them along the street. “We apparently arrived during their harvest festival. I remember some from Highever. I look forward to seeing how Evenshire does theirs.”

“Perhaps after dinner. Here we are,” Cullen opened the door and motioned her to enter before him.

They sat opposite each other at the table in the small dining room. The waiter poured them each a glass of red wine and left menus for them. Cullen kept peeking over the menu to look at her with a curious smile on his lips.

“What?” Dria giggled. “Do I have something on my face?”

Cullen shook his head and smirked. “I was admiring the flower in your hair.”

“Do you like it? I assumed the flowers were from you,” she nervously bit her lip wondering if she was mistaken.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I was hoping you’d like them.”

“They’re beautiful,” she couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her flowers. “Thank you, Cullen.”

He just blushed and looked back at his menu, taking a large sip of his wine.

After deciding he’d take the roast nug, Cullen peeked over the top of his menu at Dria. Seeing that she was still concentrating on it, he took the time to watch her unnoticed. She was biting on her lower lip and it made him smile watching her. Here she was, someone that had faced down an Archdemon, nervous because of _him_ . He felt privileged that he alone got to see a side of her no one else did. To the rest of Thedas she was “The Hero” who ended the Blight with just a few companions and did so with bravery and valor. While that was true, he knew through her letters that she often questioned herself, was terrified more often than not, and carried the weight of the lives lost in her heart. To the rest of the world, she was a symbol, but to him she was a real, loving, scared, flawed and beautiful woman. He felt so lost, so disconnected from everyone else around him, but not with Dria. She grounded him, she _got_ him without him ever having to explain.

Dria looked up and her eyes lit up and she smiled wide as she noticed him watching her. She placed her hand in his on the table. The thumb running along the back of her hand caused the butterflies to start yet again inside her. _Maker, but he was gorgeous._ She took a long sip of wine to calm her nerves. By the time the food arrived she’d finished the glass and was feeling more relaxed.

“Are things better at Kinloch?” she took a bite of fish as she waited for his reply.

Cullen shook his head. “How is it at the Keep, _Commander?_ ”

“Don’t start calling me that,” she teased back, pointing her fork at him. “It’s so different that what I expected, not that I really know what I expected,” she shrugged.

“Well at least the Darkspawn part should be familiar,” Cullen smirked.

“You’d think,” Dria looked around and lowered her voice. “They talk now.”

“What?” he looked at her confused. “No they don’t.”

“I shit you not,” she chuckled. “I’m not sure if that makes them creepier or not.”

“Definitely creepier,” Cullen shook his head and shivered. “So what do they talk about?”

“Honestly I don’t give them much attention,” Dria shrugged. “But given the choice and listening to them or having to hear one more noble prattle on about their problems, I choose the Darkspawn.”

“That’s a definite plus to being a Templar -- no having to kiss noble ass,” Cullen chuckled.

“Rub it in why don’t you,” Dria playfully tapped his leg with her foot.

The rest of dinner was more relaxed. They fell into comfortable conversation, talking about a range of topics from their childhood to the rebuilding of Denerim.

The streets were a lot more crowded on the way back from the restaurant. As they were passing by a string band that had a large group of townsfolk dancing. Dria stopped to watch the merry makers. It brought back memories of her childhood of the harvest festivals in Highever and dancing with her father and brother.

“Dance with me,” she gently tugged Cullen’s hand as she walked backwards towards the makeshift dance floor.

“I don’t dance,” he looked uncomfortable, “Templars don’t really have need of it.”

“Let me lead then, come on,” she tugged his hand again.

“You go ahead, I’ll be here,” he released her hand and looked disappointed when she walked into the crowd of dancers without him. It was the first time he’d found himself feeling inadequate when it came to Dria.

It wasn’t long before a young man in his twenties offered his hand to her and Dria joined him on the dance floor. Cullen watched as the stranger danced with Dria, spinning and moving with her. He internally kicked himself for chickening out when she’d asked. She had an elegance about her as she moved and he found himself longing to have her in his arms. He wished to the Maker he was brave enough to cut in and spin her around the floor, to be the one she was laughing with right now. Instead, he stood glued to the street watching her have a grand time without him.

As the dance ended he watched the man bow and kiss her hand. Cullen’s hand tightened into a fist at his side as he tried to curb his jealousy. Without realizing she had even moved, Dria was suddenly in front of him and wrapping her arm around his.

“I think I’m ready to head back,” she leaned her head along his arm. Cullen closed his eyes and pinched his nose trying to shove back the jealousy he’d felt towards her dance partner. He reminded himself that Dria was here, with him.

Cullen reached for her hand and linked their fingers together as they made their way back to the inn. He could feel his nerves return as they began the ascent up to their shared room. _Was he being too presumptuous about what to expect? Should he have gotten a seperate room for him?_ He hadn’t really thought further ahead then how his nightmares had vanished those few days that she’d slept by his side during the Blight and how good it would be to have two nights of actual sleep. But now that he was here with her, he wanted to touch her, to feel her skin against his, but he now felt as if he shouldn’t have assumed that just because they slept together before, that she would want that now.

He closed the door behind him and looked at her as she stood looking in the direction of the bed.

“We...uh..we…” _Maker, why could he suddenly not talk whenever he was alone with her?_ Whenever she was close, he could barely hear anything over his own beating heart. Something about her excited and frightened him at the same time. He cleared his throat. “We can just sleep if that is what you prefer.”

Dria turned and looked into his eyes. Her cheeks started to pink as she did. “Cullen, when I’d think about you…”

“You thought about me?” He grinned, even though he knew she had, her letters had told him as much.

“You know I did,” she playfully hit his arm. “When I did, it wasn’t us having dinner and falling asleep.”

“Oh? What was it that you’d think about then?” His voice deepened without him realizing as he stepped closer to her. He was now just a few inches from her, close enough to smell the flower in her hair.

Dria wrapped an arm behind his head, the other hand rested on his arm. Warm lips pressed against his and he closed his eyes, allowing her to control this kiss. Her tongue begged for entry into his mouth which he happily obliged. He pulled her closer, arms resting on her hips as he deepened the kiss. She pulled back only slightly.

“I want to feel you,” she said, and blushed deeply as if surprised by her own admission.  
  
Cullen grinned, feeling emboldened by her words, that he wasn’t alone in his desire to have her under him, naked and wanting. He pressed a kiss to her ear, recalling how it had driven her crazy in the past. He hungrily nibbled on the lobe as he started to undress her, finding himself aching to have her naked and under him as quickly as possible.

Due to their eagerness, it only took minutes before they were both in their smalls and he was walking her towards the bed. Trusting his guidance, Dria laid down, reaching up for him. Cullen crawled his way up the bed, pressing kisses along her skin as he did. He hovered over her for a moment to allow him to soak in the sight of her nearly naked body before he lowered himself down on top of her. The feel of skin on skin made him throb and he let out a gentle moan. She responded by pulling his head down for another kiss. Her fingernails scratched gently along his back, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. Long legs wrapped around him, pulling him close. Pressing, grinding, he felt her heat against him, even through her small clothes, clearly declaring what the she wanted.

Cullen, not wishing to disappoint his lady, moved a hand down her torso. He gently ran his fingertips along her skin, delighting in the softness, and taking note of the scars as well. Rolling off her, he laid on his side as his hand worked under her smalls. Finding her wet, and gathering that wetness along his middle finger, he pressed on her clit and drew circles there. Dria’s reaction was immediate. Her eyes closed and she arched into his touch, her hand grabbing his wrist to keep him in place. Cullen could smell her arousal, and his cock jumped in reaction. The fluttering of her eyes, how her lips had moved into a small ‘o’, and the flushing of her cheeks. She was beautiful always, but seeing her like this, knowing this was all for him, because of him, filled him with pride and wonder. From the worst days of his life, she emerged and suddenly he could see a future, he could see the possibility of _more_. Perhaps he could have a normal life. Not one filled with pain and fear and demons.

So focused on her pleasure, he hadn’t even noticed she had moved until her fingers were wrapped around his cock. They were so thin compared to his, and so soft that the feeling of her touch was better than his own. So many nights he’d taken himself in hand in the barracks with thoughts of her in his mind, but it didn’t compare to her touch.

He moaned her name quietly and it seemed to awaken something in her; she pushed him to lie on his back. He regretfully lost contact with her heat, but had little time to reflect, distracted by her pulling down his smalls. Then her lips pressed along his hips.

Dria ran her tongue along his length up to the tip. Sucking on the tip sent a shudder through him. The loud moan Cullen let out told her she was doing something right. She wrapped her lips around him and took him into her hot mouth. Fingers gently wove into her hair as she started to bob her mouth on him paying attention to what made him groan louder. Alternating between licking and sucking, she moved her lips up and down his cock. His musky smell added to all the things she would know as ‘Cullen’. Dria rubbed her legs together to try to push back her own desires while she pleasured him. Months ago she had thought of taking him into her mouth but had been too nervous to try all those months ago. Now that they had true privacy in this inn room, she couldn’t hold back that desire any longer. The way he had been looking at her, with a hunger she’d never seen anyone look at her before, made her feel brave enough to enact this secret desire. The noises he made, the flexing of his fingers in her hair all added to the pressure in her core.

“Oh, Dria. I’m so close,” he groaned.

She popped her mouth off of him and pumped him with her hand, feeling how stiff he was but slick from her mouth. With a groan,his hips moved in time with her hand. Back arching, hot ropes of cum spilled onto his abdomen. Dria wiggled up the bed until their heads were level and was met with a hard kiss from Cullen. Strong lips melding against hers melted her, and was so grateful at that moment for all the tips Zevran had given her on that act. Shy and nervous when she’d asked him, but, like always, Zevran never made her feel foolish for being inexperienced about sex. Seeing the look on Cullen’s face right now made it worth all the blushing and embarrassment she had gone through to know how to do that for him.

Cullen reached for his shirt and cleaned himself off as best he could. He reached for her again and once again slipped his hand into her smalls. She was even wetter than before, clearly having enjoyed what she had done to him. Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she moaned. Hearing her had him hard again quickly.

“Please, Cullen,” she cried.

“How can I deny you when you beg so prettily?” he replied, and stopped touching her just long enough to remove her smalls. He then took his place between her legs and looked at her beneath him. How long he had dreamed of this, of being inside her again?

“Please,” she whispered and he gave her what she asked for, pressing inside her and moaning at the feeling of her warmth surrounding him. She felt even better than he remembered.

Legs wrapped around his hips as he pushed himself up, resting on his arms. Slowly his hips thrust, gradually picking up speed. Together they found a rhythm that had them both panting and sweaty. She lost all ability to speak, instead just moaning, higher and higher as he pistoned his hips into her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and was sure there’d be marks for days from them.

“Oh, Dria,” he lowered his head to moan into her ear. Reaching between them, fingers played with her clit. She moaned and he could feel her tighten around him. Pulling his lower lip between his lip to keep himself focused,Cullen was determined to feel her fall apart beneath him first. Moments later she was arching herself off the bed and screaming loud enough that he was sure at least everyone on the same floor could hear. Her passion was enough to send him over the edge as his vision went white and he filled her with his seed.

Cullen rolled off of her, trying to catch his breath even as he pulled her to his side.

“Was that more in line with what you dreamed about?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

Dria only nodded in return, too out of breath to reply.

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Cullen woke, wiping the sleep from his eyes and was surprised to see the first light of day coming through the windows. It was rare for him to sleep through the night without nightmares waking him. It seemed, much like all those months ago, holding Dria in his arms as he slept had kept them at bay. He leaned on his side and looked down at her as she slept peacefully. He wrapped his arm over her and Dria sighed happily, starting to awaken. She nuzzled closer to him, seeking his body warmth.

Cullen ran his nose along her cheek and pressed a kiss there. Dria smiled in response and opened her eyes slowly.

“Good morning,” Cullen pressed a light kiss to her ear.

Dria twined her fingers with his and looked up at him. “It’s early.”

Cullen chuckled and rested his forehead along the side of her head. “It is. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just wanted to hold you.”

Dria hummed and pulled his arm tighter around her. She looked up at Cullen and touched his cheek, running her fingers along his jaw. Cullen caught her lips in a soft kiss. She turned to face him and snuggled closer to him. “I like it when you hold me. All the bad stuff just disappears for a while.”

“I feel the same,” Cullen laid back down pulling Dria to his side as sleep started to take them both back to the Fade. As he started to drift, he let himself imagine what it would be like to wake up every day like this,to feel safe instead of angry and afraid.

Beautiful artwork of Dria and Cullen (or Cullen Timberlake as we called him) from the amazing [Pooky Huntress](http://pookyhuntress.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always nervous to post NSFW -- will it be good or will it fall flat. I'd love some feedback.
> 
> Yes -- things did go fairly smooth this time, but if you've read my work you know I won't let them well enough alone :p Especially with someone displaying jealousy yet again. *sigh*
> 
> So good news -- CHEMO IS DONE!!! OMG that was such a long 6 months!! I'm not cancer free, but I'm working on it. Thank you all for your support and well wishes. They have meant so much.
> 
> I made a playlist!! I'll add to it as the chapters go. [ Imperfect Timing Playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4QqEYOa20hNuJzSyYuADsJ)
> 
> Anyway would love to hear your thoughts so far. There's SO MUCH more to come with this, I mean we have to get through DA2 and DAI!! You never know, I may work some of your ideas into the story if they fit the plan....


	6. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are beginning to crack in their professional and love life.

Cullen placed Dria’s travel bag over her horse’s saddle and then turned to face her, his hands finding her hips. Dressed in her Warden Commander armor again, her hair plaited back, she looked so much different than the last two days. She looked fierce, but still just as beautiful to him. He placed his forehead against hers as her hands rested upon his lower arms. Cullen closed his eyes and let out a small sigh as he fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Knowing he would soon have to watch her ride away caused a crushing feeling in his chest. He said a silent prayer to the Maker to keep her safe over the next few month until they could meet again. 

Dria could feel the suffocating sense of loss that had become all too familiar to her. They had promised each other this was not a one time thing and that they’d meet again as soon as they were able. Still, she found herself reluctant to leave his arms. His lips found hers in a soft kiss, a promise of more-- someday. She paid attention to how the kiss felt, how his gloved fingers gripped her waist, and how his skin smelled--like a mix of sandalwood and the oil he used on his armor.

All too soon he pulled away and gently touched her cheek, internally cursing himself for putting on his gloves, keeping him from feeling her skin one more time. 

Dria gave him a small smile that did little to hide her sadness. She allowed Cullen to help her up into the saddle. Once settled, she bent down and stole one last kiss.

“I’ll write you as soon as I return,” she promised. Knowing that the longer she took to leave, the harder it would be, she gently prodded her horse into movement. Dria turned around to watch him several times, and each time he was standing right where she’d left him, watching her as well.

Passing through the countryside, she could still see the damage from the Blight. Patches of earth were scorched, presumably by magic. In one particularly gruesome spot there were the skeletal remains from a battle. Only the clothing made it clear which were human and which Darkspawn. Memories flooded back of happier times around the campfire where Leliana would strum her lute while Zevran hummed a tune. She could hear Alistair’s laughter in her head and practically smell the fish they often ate as their meal. Strange to think of a Blight as a happy time, but for her it was. So soon after losing everyone she knew and loved, she’d found the group of misfits that would become her friends, her family. Or so she thought, but now they were all scattered to distant parts of Thedas. She wondered with a sigh if this would be her life now, one battle after another, always one wrong move away from death. She tried to chase away those morose thoughts with memories of Cullen. 

The landscape became familiar as she neared Vigil’s Keep. Dria pulled herself from her musings and straightened her spine, the mask of ‘Warden Commander’ sliding back into place. Several wardens saluted as she passed by them. Returning the gesture and nodding, she continued on into the Keep. Dria slid off her horse and led it into the stable. As she was starting to uncinch the saddle she heard someone approach behind her. Turning slightly to see who was approaching, she recognized the intruder and gave Nathaniel a warm grin.

He returned the smile. “You look more relaxed. I’d say it was a good reunion.”

Dria blushed slightly as she put the saddle on it’s holder, “It was. How was everything here?”

“Good,” he nodded and walked beside her as they headed towards the main entrance to the keep. “While you were gone I named myself the new Warden Commander.”

“Oh, good,” she replied with a knowing grin, “I can take a nap then.”

“Hardly. I may be in charge but you still have to do everything,” he chuckled.

“Dammit. You’re a bastard, Howe,” she stopped, kneeling down to welcome Charger who came running to her.

“So I’ve been told.”

“At least you didn’t steal my dog,” she opened up the door to her office and placed her bag on the floor beside her chair.

“It wasn’t from lack of trying,” Nathaniel shrugged and settled into the chair on the other side of her desk. “There’s been reports of something attacking caravans from Amaranthine. Also Anders has a request of a more personal nature.”

“Business right away? Not even a ‘Welcome back’ drink? Alright, we can head out soon and look into the attacks. Do I want to know what Anders wants?” she quirked an eyebrow.

“He has a lead on his phylactery. He believes it’s in Amaranthine,” Nathaniel explained.

Dria nodded, “Let him know we can look into it once we resolve the caravan attacks. Anything else?” she shuffled through the paperwork on her desk as she spoke.  _ No rest for the weary _ , she thought with a sigh _. _

“I know you just got back, but we just got another request for you to appear in Denerim,” Nathaniel replied, looking at the wall instead of meeting Dria’s eyes.

“What? I was just there two weeks ago,” she sighed and flopped back in her chair.

“I know, and your mother would be horrified with how you just flopped,” he teased.

“I’m sure it’s the least of the things I’ve done that have horrified her,” Dria smirked. She appreciated that Nathaniel seemed to know she needed the banter to keep her spirits up without her having to tell him so. It felt good again to have a friend that just  _ got  _ her. She’d been missing that ever since Zevran returned to Antiva. “Let Anders and Oghren know we’ll head out in the morning to look for the cause of the caravan attacks.”

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Dria’s legs gave out and she ungracefully collapsed onto her ass, dropping her sword and shield on the way down. She hissed as she put her hand over the slice on her thigh. She’d been just a second too late to block the blade from the Darkspawn. She retaliated by slicing off it’s head.

“Mother fucker,” she cried out as she gingerly slid down her pants to get a better look at the damage to her leg. Tears from the pain rimmed her eyes as she pressed on the cut to try to stop the bleeding. She looked at the blood staining her gloves and frowned. They were a gift sent from Cullen.  _ Not traditionally romantic, I know, but practical for your line of work,  _ his letter had said.

Dria coughed at the dirt kicked up into the air by Anders sliding in quickly beside her. His hands glowed as he replaced her hands with his over her wound.

“Didn’t think this would be how I’d get my hands in your pants,” he winked at her. 

Dria rolled her eyes in response having gotten used to his harmless flirting. She bit her lip and looked up at the sky as the warm tingling from his magic pulsed through her thigh, trying to distract herself from the pain.

“All done,” Anders stood up and offered her his hand. 

Dria rose and quickly pulled her pants back up, all the while flexing her leg to see if there was any other pains. He had done an amazing job, barely a scar left where there had been a huge open wound just a few minutes before.

“Thanks,” Dria clapped Anders on the back as she walked to where Nathaniel stood surveying the damage.

“Well I guess it wasn’t bandits attacking the caravans,” he sighed.

Dria shook her head, “I don’t understand why they’re coming out. I thought they’d disappear into the deep roads after we killed the Archdemon.”

“Apparently not,” Nathaniel grunted and looked around. “Onto Amaranthine?”

She nodded and walked over to the other Wardens. “Oghren and Velanna, I want you to return to the Keep and report what we found here. Anders, Nathaniel and I have business in Amaranthine to deal with.”

They both nodded and headed off to the Keep. Anders watched them go as he, Dria and Nathaniel took to their horses and headed in the opposite direction. Dria observed him fiddling with his robes and looking back in the direction of the Keep.

Dria moved her horse towards Anders’. “Everything ok?”

“Why’d you send them off?” The worry in his eyes was clear, but she couldn’t fathom why.

“The less that know about this, the easier it’ll be to avoid more issues with the Chantry,” she explained.

Anders nodded but looked unconvinced. He guided his horse away from the other two effectively ending the conversation. They continued in silence the rest of the way to the city.

“My contact said she’ll meet me over there,” Anders indicated a small garden. “Maybe best if you stay back a bit.”

Nathaniel and Dria watched as Anders spoke with a red-haired elven woman. She didn’t look too pleased to talk to Anders, although Dria was too far away to hear exactly what was being said. The elf walked past Dria and Nathaniel in a huff.

“Don’t let him sweet talk you,” she said to Dria as she stormed by. Nathaniel let out and amused snort in response.

“Friend of yours?” Dria asked when Anders rejoined them.

“She’s usually friendlier than that,” Anders shrugged. “I found the location. There’s an abandoned warehouse on the far edge of town.”

“No time like the present,” Dria raised her arm signalling for Anders to lead the way. While walking, Dria observed him fidgeting with the sleeves of his robe and looking over at her and Nathaniel with some worry. She chalked it up to nerves or perhaps excitement even about finally having his hands on the phylactery. She knew this was one mission she’d need to keep out of her letters to Cullen.

The warehouse was in a quiet part of the town, surrounded by a few smaller, run down homes and not much more. 

“This is it,” Anders bit his lip and looked around before entering the door. It creaked out a whine as it opened, clearly having been sometime since it was last used. Inside it was dark, with the exception of the sunlight through the few windows high above. The air smelled stale.

The three of them split up and start looking through the room for any sign of his phylactery. All Dria found was some old pieces of armor that she may be able to sell. Sticking them in her sack she turns to look at the other two who appear to have just as little luck. 

“Let’s try there,” Nathaniel nodded towards a door. He opened it, leading the way for the other two. 

As Anders entered, in front of Dria, he gasped and collapsed. “Sss..smite,” he groaned, and looked at Dria with a look of utter heartbreak.

Dria and Nathaniel drew their weapons as three Templars came out of hiding. Dria charged the smallest of the three, her shield in front of her, and bashed the Templar into the wall. He groaned loudly and she bashed him twice more in quick succession until he stopped moving. She turned to see Nathaniel had one Templar engaged in battle and the third confidently walked towards Anders. She removed her helmet and it was that damned annoying woman that the King had sent to Vigil’s Keep--Ry something. Dria’s usually good with names but she had long decided this pain in the ass wasn’t worth the brain cells it would take to remember it.

Dria let out a War-Cry and charged at the woman. ‘Ry-whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is’ turned just in time to get slammed on her ass from Dria. She quickly stood back up and turned her weapon towards Dria. Swords clashed as they circled each other. Dria purposely moved so that she was now between the Templar and Anders. Her shield expertly deflected each hit the other woman attempted to make at her, but the impacts were starting to tire her shield-arm and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out. Dria remembered a move her brother had taught her once. She began to lower her shield. Just as a smug look came over the face of ‘the annoying one’, Dria slammed her shield up quickly, catching the Templar under the chin and knocking her back on the ground. As she fell, her sword fell away. Nathaniel, having apparently finished off his opponent, kicked the sword far out of reach as he stood nearby. Dria pointed her sword at the woman’s face.

“I’m fairly certain I made it clear before that Anders was off limits,” she snarled.

“He is a murderer. It is my duty to make sure he’s never a bother to anyone again,” the Templar attempted to rise only to be kicked back down by Dria.

“What? No, you can’t arrest me!” Anders looked from the Templar to Dria.

“No one’s taking you,” Dria replied without looking away from the woman she had pinned to the ground. “Where’s the phylacteries?” 

“They were here, but I had them moved. I knew Anders wouldn’t be able to resist,” she wiped at the blood from her lip.

“You have two choices. Either you leave now and take your two,” she looked up and noticed the Templar that had been fighting Nathaniel appeared to have gone to the Maker’s side.  _ Another thing to never tell Cullen.  _ “Make that one companion with you. Or I can just kill you both now.”

The Templar made the wise decision, getting up and waking up her companion. The two left through the back door without another word.

Dria dropped her sword and removed her shield from her left arm along with her vambrace. “Fuck that hurts,” she winced as she rubbed at her arm.

Anders stepped in front of her and placed her arm in between his hands. She soon felt the warmth of his healing magic ease the ache of her muscles. He looked at her and then to Nathaniel.

“What’s bothering you?” Dria asked.

“You didn’t...I thought maybe…,” Anders gulped.

“That we’d turn you in?” Dria guessed.

Anders nodded. “When you sent the others away, I thought it was so there were no witnesses.”

Nathaniel looked insulted, “How could you think we’d do that?”

Dria held up her right hand, “It’s alright, Nathaniel. I’m guessing no one’s ever stood up for him before.”

“Just Karl,” Anders replied, barely a whisper.

“You’ll have to tell me about him sometime,” Dria answered softly, eliciting a small smile from Anders. “You’re a Warden now, and more importantly our friend,” she indicated Nathaniel with her head. “And I protect my friends.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for having doubted you,” Anders looked bashful as he released her arm.

“It’s alright,” Dria flexed her fingers and smiled as the pain was gone completely. “What say we sell what we found here and stay at the Crown and Lion for the night? I say we’ve earned a night sleeping in real beds instead of on the road.”

The other two nodded emphatically and followed her back out to the city.

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Dria entered Rigel’s office to deliver her report. Unlike her first visit when she’d arrived in pristine condition, this time she was dust covered, blood covered, and had something on her that she was sure was part of the ogre they’d fought. At least now they knew what was attacking the caravans. This was her fourth visit in two months and she knew the routine by now.

“Hello, Tera,” she nodded to the guard standing in the room who returned the gesture and smiled briefly.

“Hello, Ladyship Cousland,” Tera returned the nod. Her long blonde hair was in braids that were then looped into a bun. Dria found it elegant and wondered if she’d be able to copy it if she worked at it.

“I’m no longer Teryna,” Dria corrected Tera. “Haven’t been since I became a Warden. Just Vanedria is fine.”

“Vanedria,” Tera smiled.

“Ah, Commander,” Rigel entered and gave a friendly smile to Dria as he indicated with his hand for her to sit in front of his desk. “So good to see you again.” 

“And you as well, Rigel,” Dria took her seat as Rigel took his. “And how is your wife doing? She must be what, five months along now?”

Rigel beamed, “Almost six. You are kind to ask, my lady. She is well, and is preparing for the babe. So, you have a report?”

“Yes. If only the King would take it himself or would let me just send them in and save myself a trip,” Dria sighed as she handed over her written report. While he read Dria looked around the room. Beside the desk the room had two large bookcases, a fireplace and two long windows that went floor to ceiling. It was a beautiful day out, and the windows were opened to let in the warm air. Behind Rigel’s desk the walls were decorated with long, flowy tapestries.

“Err, yes, wouldn’t that be nice,” Rigel mumbled and coughed still reading her report. 

Dria’s eyes caught the tapestry behind him ruffle despite not feeling a breeze from the window. Her hand went to her weapon and she looked over to Tera. The guard’s eyes were on the tapestry for a moment but she quickly looked elsewhere when she noticed Dria looking. Dria removed her hand from her sword, deciding that if the Palace guard didn’t deem there to be a threat, she could relax. She’d probably just spent too long fighting Darkspawn and had become paranoid.

“Everything here seems in order. I’ll see what I can do about getting you the supplies you’re requesting. I should have an answer for you before you head back to the Keep. I assume you’ll be staying at the same inn?” Rigel raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I’ll leave midday unless there’s a need for me to stay,” Dria answered.

Rigel just looked at her expectantly, but for what she wasn’t sure. He let out another cough and then sighed. “Apparently not. Well then, I thank you again,” he stood and shook Dria’s hand.

“I hope that cough doesn’t turn into something more,” Dria looked at him with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” Rigel waved her off. “I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”

“Yes, since apparently His Majesty thinks I have nothing better to do then run back and forth from Amaranthine and here,” Dria grumbled as she turned to leave. If she wasn’t mistaken, Rigel seemed to blush slightly.

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Dria brushed the skirts of her dress and let out a deep breath.  _ Maker, why am I nervous again? _ She pushed open the door to the inn and entered. It had been over two months since she’d seen him last, and despite constant letters between them, she missed him terribly. As she looked around expectandly with a large grin on her face those nerves became hard as she soon realized he wasn’t there. Her smile fell and she began to worry that he’d found trouble on the way there.

“Ah, my lady,” the innkeeper signaled to her. Dria headed to the bar where he was. The innkeeper handed her a key, “Your gentleman friend is upstairs. He indicated he needed to rest but asked me to keep an eye out for you.”

Dria let out a sigh of relief and took the key, “Thank you, Serrah.”

“I gave you both the same room as last time,” the innkeeper replied.

Dria nodded and headed up the stairs. The relief of knowing Cullen had arrived safe dissipated her nerves. She opened the door to their room and put her pack on the floor just as she noticed him sitting in a chair by the fire, head in his hands.

“Cullen?” she asked as she neared him.

Cullen raised his head, looking forlorn, and reached for her, pulling her close so that she was standing in front of him. He rested his head along her abdomen as his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What’s wrong?” Dria said softly.

“There was a harrowing yesterday,” Cullen sniffled. “and it just…”

Dria could feel him shaking. She gently ran her fingers through his hair trying to offer him some small amount of comfort.

“When the mage became an abomination I was back in that cage again. I had to strike him down but after...I just…,” Cullen took a deep breath, and his voice sounded less shaky when he spoke again. “You must think I’m a weak fool.”

“No,” Dria shook her head even though he couldn’t see her do so. “I think you’re someone who’s been through more than anyone should ever have to bear.”

She sat on his lap and he loosened his hold to allow her to do so. Dria placed her hand on his cheek and her lips touched his in a soft kiss. Cullen’s arms tightened around her.

“I’ve missed you,” Cullen whispered as he kept his head close to hers.

“And I you,” Dria said with a smile. She put her head on his shoulder and just enjoyed the feeling of sitting in his lap and having him hold her.

“I just wish everyone understood, they can’t be trusted, none of them,” Cullen sighed.

“Who?”

“The mages of course. They are all a curse, a serpent waiting to strike,” Cullen stated.

“Oh Cullen,” Dria raised her head and touched his cheek again. “I know you’ve seen so much, but you must know that not all…”

“No,” his face hardened. “I mean all. They,...”

Dria straightened in his lap, “Cullen I have a mage in my Wardens. He all but saved my life last month. If he wasn’t there I’m certain I would have bled out before the others could have gotten me to help. Surely you don’t think it better I was dead then he be allowed to live.”

“Of course I don’t want something to happen to you, that’s exactly  _ why _ you need to turn the apostate in. They’re dangerous, more than you know.” Cullen’s face was red and seemed to have developed an eye twitch.

“He’s a Warden, not an apostate, and he’s my friend,” she stood up and took a step back.

“This mage will sacrifice your life to save his own in a heartbeat. You can’t trust him, even for a moment. You’re deluding yourself if you think him a friend,” Cullen growled.

“I think I know my own Wardens better than you,” she snapped, feeling anger grow heavy in her stomach.

“Than you’re a fool.”

“And you’re a jackass,” hot tears welled in her eyes as she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room.

Dria stormed into the stables wiping at her eyes in a futile effort to stop her tears. She just wanted to get away and find someone quiet to lick her wounds before she returned to Vigil’s Keep.

“My lady?” an elf tending to the horses turned to her as he noticed her.

“Prepare my horse please,” she requested and sat on the bench just inside the stable as the elf nodded and headed off to do as she asked.

Dria looked at her hands and squeezed them trying to calm herself. Loud footsteps sounded on the road and she looked up as Cullen rushed into the stables. He looked around frantically until he noticed her sitting there. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please don’t leave,” his eyes searched her face for any indication of what she would do.

“Cullen, I don’t…”

“Please just come back inside so we can talk, that’s all I ask,” he begged.

Dria nodded and left to tell the stablehand to leave her horse be for now. She returned and followed Cullen back to the inn and back up to the room. The entire time he said nothing but looked in her direction a few times as if to be certain she was still there. Once back in their room, he sat on the bed, his head hung down as his arms rested on his legs. Dria dropped her bag by the door and joined him.

“I’m scared, Dria,” he sighed. “Every minute of every day, I’m terrified and it’s exhausting.”

“Of what?” She reached over and took his hand.

“Of it happening again. Of missing the signs and being locked in a cage again. Just one misstep and it could happen again,” he looked up at her. “Dria if something...if something were to happen to you, if that mage hurt you…”

“He won’t,” she replied quietly.

“But if he did and I could have stopped it, I’d never forgive myself.”

“Cullen,” she squeezed his hand, “the life of a Warden is dangerous. I trust my people, and I need you to trust me enough to respect that. As much as you want to, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Cullen let out a deep breath and nodded, “I’m sorry. Everytime I close my eyes I’m right back there. I barely sleep at night and when I do it’s nightmares.”

“Oh Cullen,” Dria pressed her lips to his temple as she rubbed her fingers gently along his back.

“I should have faith. I should trust in the Maker,” he glanced at her for a moment and then back at the ground.

“Cullen, you’re stronger than you know. That you survived is proof of that,” she tried to reassure him.

“I don’t feel strong,” he shook his head.

“Lie down on your stomach,” Dria commanded. 

Cullen raised an eyebrow, but did as she asked and waited to see what she’d do. He felt her straddle his legs, and moments later knuckles pressed into the muscles on his shoulder blades. He hadn’t even realized how much tension he had in his back until she pressed on it. Cullen let out a groan of pleasure as he felt things began to relax.

“Just relax,” Dria’s breath on his ear as she bent down to press another kiss to his cheek sent a shiver down his spine.

Cullen groaned again, and felt as if everything was melting as she continued to massage him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this much at peace. The more she pressed and pushed her hands into his back, the more he felt at ease. Slowly the fear left his mind as images of a lakeside replaced it. A lake he hadn’t been at for years, not since joining the Templars. 

When he opened his eyes the room was darker and Dria was beside him, her fingers running softly through his hair.

“Hi,” she smiled at him.

“Did I fall asleep?”

Dria nodded. “You looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Feeling better?”

Cullen wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, “Better than I have in so long. Thank you.”

Dria blushed and looked down, avoiding eyes. “I care for you. I’m glad I could help.”

Cullen pulled her closer and his lips met hers. He hoped he conveyed his gratitude through the kiss. She was his salvation and she didn’t even know it. To think he’d almost lost that. He said a silent prayer to the Maker in thanks that she was here in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'd love feedback -- did their fight make sense?  
> We're almost done with DAA and then onto Cullen dealing with Kirkwall.
> 
> What do you all think happens to the Warden after DAA? I know the most popular theory is they're searching for a cure, but if that's not what they're doing, then what do you think they're doing?
> 
> \-------  
> On a more personal line -- thanks everyone for all your support through chemo. I still have a long road ahead of me, but I'm fighting this with everything I have. Some days are hard but what gets me through the bad days, as corny as it sounds, is reading other fics. Here's 2 I recommend, please feel free to recommend some in the comments (and don't be afraid to recommend your own)! 
> 
> If you aren't in love with Rylen, then you clearly haven't read anything by [Dance Like No One Is Watching](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues>LarasLandlockedBlues</a>.%20%20%0AEver%20dreamed%20of%20dancing%20with%20Cullen?%20Then%20you%20need%20to%20check%20out%20<a%20href=) by [Kagetsukai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagetsukai)
> 
> Sometimes I struggle with my writing. I got feedback (from someone I asked feedback from) that I use too many words in my writing, that I should minimize words and pull out things that just don't matter to the story. And I struggled with that feedback for a while because I wondered if I did that or not. Then I decided that I was happy with how I write. I use words to paint a picture, and sometime you need lots of words for that. And I like to write the emotions the characters are feeling, what they're seeing, etc. I decided that even though I still have much to learn, I'm happy with the style I use and maybe it's not wise, but I'm going to keep doing it like I'm doing.
> 
> I'm sharing that not because I think I'm great, but more that maybe one of you reading right now isn't feeling great about how they write. Maybe you're insecure (let you in on a secret, ALL of us writers are, even that fanfic writer that's your favorite!). My point is keep writing anyway. Sure, learn and grow, but if you're happy with something, then love it and embrace it and don't worry if it's not everyone's cup of tea.


	7. I Heard It Through The Grapevine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting so long to share this chapter. I hoped I built up enough leading up to this one that it is the gut-punch I am aiming for...

Cullen shoved his hands over his ears as Carthos’ screamed. He shut his eyes tight trying to block it all out as his fellow Templar, his friend, was dying. Something soft touched his cheek.

“Not real. Not real,” Cullen breathed deeply trying to will her away.

“Cullen,” the voice was not the one he expected.

He opened his eyes and instead of Solona, it wore Dria’s face.

“Come with me love,” she spoke softly. 

“W-where?” his voice shook.

“A home, children, everything you want,” she promised. “Just give in.”

He wanted those things, more than he could put to words. But...hadn’t she said she couldn’t bear children? And how did she get out of the Wardens?

The eyes were wrong; red, not brown. 

“No!” he shouted.

He shot up in bed, breathing hard trying to catch his breath. The barracks were pitch black. The eyes of several other Templars glaring at him told him the screaming wasn’t just in his head. Cullen ran his hand over his face and swung his legs over the cot. Head hung, his hand ran through his hair. Trying to return to sleep would be a losing fight.

Cullen set out for the training grounds to work off some of the tension caused by the nightmare.  _ Maker, why wouldn’t they just leave him? Hadn’t he been through enough? _

He heard someone mutter “Freak” as he left. Walking outside, he tried to ignore the pain in his chest.

After several hours of praying and hitting one of the training dummies--sometimes at the same time--he returned to the barracks. Grabbing a change of clothes, a towel and soap, he headed off to the communal bath. Once there he found a secluded spot to wash. Occasionally one of the other Templars would throw him an unfriendly glare. He ignored them, having gotten used to their disdain for him long ago. He was an unwanted reminder of the tower falling, of the failure of the Templars to maintain order.

Cullen dunked his head in the water and emerged as quick as possible. The demons were there any time he closed his eyes, as if waiting for him. He took a few deep breaths and tried hard to ignore the feeling of tendrils and of the desire demon’s nails along his back. The burn marks they had left along his shoulders were ugly, even to him. The skin felt like leather instead of soft, looking dark and deformed compared to the rest. Somehow they never seemed to bother Dria though. He was still baffled at her calling him handsome. Finishing his bath, he quickly towelled off and returned to his bunk to dress for his watch.

The library was musty, but Cullen was sure he could still smell smoke in there. He stood along the wall watching over his charges. He remembered the first time he’d stood guard at the circle. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in reality it was only eighteen months prior. He liked the library - it was quiet, easier to keep watch without distractions. It was also easier for the mind to wander after several hours, despite his attempts to maintain focus.

As typical, they wandered to memories of Dria. How her hair felt when he’d run his hands through it, how her laughter sounded in his ears, and how her lips tasted on his. Cullen tried to refocus on what was going on around him, but it was difficult. He found himself missing her, having not seen her in over two months. Tracking down someone or something called “The Mother” had kept her from being able to keep their last planned reunion. He thought of her smile and a feeling of lightness filled his chest.

“So, you can smile,” one of the mages chuckled, his tone friendly.

Cullen scowled at the mage for speaking to him. Years ago he might have said something in return, maybe even laughed. Now he knew better. These mages were looking for a weakness, for a way to tear at him like they had with  _ her _ . He’d made the mistake of becoming infatuated with a mage once; he’d not repeat that mistake.

“Hmph, guess it was gas,” the mage shrugged his shoulders and went back to talking with the mage beside him.

“It wouldn’t kill you to lighten up a little,” Orwen, a fellow Templar whispered beside him.

“It may very well,” Cullen grumbled back at the naive idiot.

The rest of the shift passed in silence, at least from him. Orwen continued to try to engage him in conversation.

_ “Did you hear about Dena and Carter? Got caught in the supply closet without a stitch of clothing. Tried to claim they just got lost on the way to the baths.” _

_ “I hear the Lester harrowing was a big mess. The mage got so scared he shit himself.” _

_ “That soccer match against Antiva last week was awesome.” _

_ “It smells like rain do you think it will rain this weekend? Because I have this amazing picnic planned …”  _

Cullen was mentally screaming ‘shut up ‘trying to balance the voices in his head with the voice coming from his counterpart. They were just a mass of noise jumbled together fade bent on slowly driving him insane. 

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief when his replacement finally arrived. He returned to his bunk to rest before dinner. Sitting on it was a package with a note on top. He watched it curiously as he removed his armor. Only his sister, Mia, and Dria wrote him, and he wondered which it was from. Finally free from his armor, and in just his cotton britches and a light shirt he sat on his bunk and opened the note. 

Out fell a flattened Andraste Grace and he knew immediately it was from Dria. She included the flower in all of her letters to him. He sniffed it, closing his eyes and thinking of her with the first real smile of the day finally coming to him. He placed the flower on his pillow and began to read.

_ Cullen- _

_ I’m sorry I had to delay our trip to Evenshire. I miss you, two months have gone by so slowly. I promise I’ll be there in two weeks time. We still haven’t found the Mother, but we are so close, I can feel it. _

_ Spending time in the Dark Roads is lonely, even when surrounded by other Wardens. It makes you reflect on things. I have something I realized I must tell you. _

_ I found this in a shop in Amaranthine and thought of you. I know Templars are not supposed to have personal items, but hopefully this is an acceptable exception. _

_ Until then, please stay safe, _

_ Dria _

Cullen touched the paper gently, missing her as well. She must have written it several days before it was sent since they were set to meet in three days time. He wondered if she had written it while in the Deep Roads. He tried hard not to think about her being there. Though he’d never seen them, but he’d heard stories and could barely imagine the horrors found in them.

Lifting the package, he untied the string around the paper. Inside was a small leather book. On the front was stamped the symbol of Andraste and the words “Chant of Light, Vol 1”. He gently ran his fingers over the stamp and then flipped through the book. It was a work of art, something beautiful and sacred. He knew the next time the demons awoke him he’d have this to read, to strengthen his resolve and his faith. He wondered if she knew just how much this small gift meant to him. How had he been so lucky to stumble upon lo…

“Yer messing with fire there,” Theodore, one of the transfers from Ostwick, grumbled at him.

“What?” Cullen wondered if the man thought the book was something other than a sacred text; The Randy Dowager perhaps.

“I mean I get it, she’s beautiful. But to risk the ire of the King. You’ll be hung for sure, exiled if you’re really lucky,” Theodore pointed to where Cullen had placed Dria’s letter.

“I’m not sure what you’re on about,” Cullen responded as he pulled together her letter and the book, placing them under his pillow.

“Yer sticking it to the King’s mistress…”

“She is not, and I’ll not listen to you say such things about her,” Cullen stood, fists at his side.

“Course she is. Everyone knows it. She’s the Hero, and the Teyrn’s sister. Me cousin works at the castle, says she’s there every few weeks. King gets all nervous and jittery before she arrives too. Ya keep all this up and he’s going to find out sooner or later, then it’s,” Theodore dragged his finger across his neck.

Cullen looked at Orwen who had entered the room during Theodore’s talking. “It’s true. I thought you already knew,” the boy shrugged.

Cullen grabbed his sword and stormed off to the training grounds. What Theodore said couldn’t be true, could it? He started reviewing things in his head. The cancelled trip, was she really away on Warden business? She avoided talking about the King, would even change the subject if he came up in conversation. She’d never even mentioned ever going to the castle, yet Theodore said she was there  _ monthly _ ! 

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. What future would he ever have with the Teyrn’s sister? There’s no way she didn’t know that nothing could ever come of them. For all he knew, Dria was already betrothed to someone else. That’s how it worked with those nobles, wasn’t it? 

He remembered being suspicious of her relationship with the would-be-king at Redcliffe castle. But she had batted her eyes and convinced him that there was nothing between him. He should have trusted his gut then. Instead he fell into bed with her like a lovesick fool.

He was so desperate for some small piece of happiness that he’d fallen for her trap without a care. She was probably somewhere laughing at his foolishness right now. He was nothing but a plaything, of course she didn’t care how damaged he was. It explained why she’d bother with him.

Cullen slammed into the training dummy with his shield hard enough to break the dummy in half. He threw the shield to the ground and stormed off. He was through being everyone’s punching bag.

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Dria slipped into a flowing green dress. She’d purchased it last week from a travelling merchant that had stopped at the keep. She wanted to look, well, what she wanted was for Cullen’s mouth to drop when he saw her. This dress would definitely do the trick. She missed him, and was anxious to get to Evenshire.

She grabbed her horse’s reins, leading it from the stream it had been drinking from as she changed from her riding clothes into the dress. She pulled herself up into the saddle and nudged the horse to start back up. Only about thirty minutes and then she’d be in his arms.

She smiled as she imagined making her confession to him. It wasn’t until a particularly gruesome battle in the Deep Roads, one where, sadly, not everyone had survived, that she realized the truth of it. She was in love. She never thought a battle with Darkspawn would bring that about. But as she sat there watching Anders try in vain to save Warden Claris, she had thought of Cullen. How if she died there, she’d never see him again. He wouldn’t know what had become of her, just that her letters had stopped coming. She would never again be able to lie in his arms. That made her think of how peaceful it was when he just held her. When they’d lay awake after making love and talk about everything and nothing all at once. She realized how much she loved that, which then led to the realization that she loved him.

As she came into town the butterflies in her stomach took flight. She needed to tell him, but she didn’t know  _ how _ .  _ Should she just blurt it out when she entered the room? Wait until dinner when they were sitting across from each other holding hands? After making love? During? Maker, what she wouldn’t do to have Leliana here to help her figure this out. _

She handed off her horse to the elf in the stables and walked across the dirt road to the inn. She was disappointed only for a moment to find Cullen was not downstairs waiting for her. That disappeared when she realized it would be better to make her confession in private. If he didn’t feel the same, she’d rather not be embarrassed in front of others, and if he did...well then, there was that large bed.

She waved to the innkeeper’s wife who returned the gesture. Dria practically floated up the stairs, carried by equal parts fear and excitement. She stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. Nervous hands fussed over her dress one more time. This was it. Push the door open and say those three words and just hope he felt the same. Dria bit her lip as she tried to will down her fear.  _ Your the damned Warden Commander of Ferelden. You face down Darkspawn weekly. You can do this. _

Dria pushed open the door and stepped inside.

“Cullen, I…”

The door slammed behind her and she whipped around ready to face whoever was there, startled to find Cullen standing there with an expression she couldn’t read. He was clearly agitated, but beyond that she couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

“Just how big of an idiot did you take me for?” he snarled at her.

Dria raised her eyebrows in confusion, “Cullen what are you talking about?”

“I know Dria. I know,” he glared at her.

“Know what?”

“About you and the King,” Cullen’s voice raised. He slammed his fist against the door, causing it to vibrate.

Dria jumped in response. “Me and the King? What are…”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did the two of you have a little laugh about the stupid lowly farm boy you were stringing along while you laid there with your legs open for the King?” Cullen moved closer to her while he shouted. “Did you ever accidentally call out my name while he was inside you?”

“What?” Dria was now feeling her own anger at the baseless accusations being thrown at her. “How dare…”

“How dare I what? Call you the whore you are?”

Dria’s hand stung from how hard she smacked Cullen across the face. “You bastard. Goodbye.”

She whipped open the door and picked up her bag that she’d left beside it and left, refusing to let him see any of the tears that were starting to fall. She rushed through the inn, hoping no one would see her. She heard the innkeeper’s wife calling out to her, asking if she was alright, but Dria didn’t stop to answer.

The elf was just beginning to take off the saddle from her horse. 

“Leave it,” she internally cringed at how shaky her voice sounded. She worked on keeping her face as neutral as possible, calling on all her years of training from her mother on how a noble lady should act.

She handed the elf a few coins for his time and attached her pack to the saddle. She continued to watch the inn across the way hoping Cullen would come to stop her. She wasn’t even sure if she  _ would  _ forgive him, but maybe he’d explain he had a bad batch of lyrium, or the demons were whispering lies to him in his sleep and he was confused. Anything that would explain  _ what the fuck  _ just happened.

As she mounted her horse she saw him emerge and took a deep breath, bracing herself for his arrival. He didn’t give the stables a single look, instead turning to the left and heading into town, likely towards the tavern.

Dria slowly let out her breath. That was it then. She closed her eyes and let out a gasp of air.  _ Just let me get out of town, then you can cry all you want. _ She nudged her horse and headed on the half day’s journey to Vigil’s Keep.

She arrived back at the Keep close to midnight having stopped several times along the way to purge her tears and let herself feel the heartbreak. She knew once she’d passed the gates to the stronghold she’d need to be the Warden Commander again. Her last stop she’d changed back into her riding gear to help her maintain an air of command when she returned.

There was almost no noise in the courtyard save the sounds of armored Wardens on patrol. She was grateful for that, fewer people to salute and pretend to be fine around. Her face was blank, unreadable.  _ Mother would be proud _ .  _ Just get to your room, then you can fall apart. _

Bruiser’s ears perked up and his head followed when he noticed his mistress enter the main hallway. His tail wagged happily as he trotted to her. Dria pet his head, finding some small amount of relief in the comfort that her beloved mabari was there to greet her.

She wove her way through the hallway to her room, Bruiser following beside her. Once inside her sanctuary she let out a sad sigh and knelt down to hug her pet around his neck. Bruiser, sensing her emotions, nuzzled her hair and whined.

“I’ll be ok,” she reassured him. 

Dria put her pack down on her chair in front of the fire. She knelt before the hearth and took the flint sitting there. Striking it, the fire started and she stood up and stretched. She opened her pack and pulled out her green dress. Her heart hurt looking at it, a reminder of how she foolishly let herself fall in love with someone so cruel. She bunched the dress in her hands and tossed it in the fire, not wishing to be reminded of that pain.

She opened up the drawer to her nightstand and took out a stack of letters and headed back to the fire. She sniffled and rubbed at her nose, tears had begun to fall again without her noticing until now. One by one tossed his letters into the fire to join the dress now fully engulfed in flames.

“Patrol reported to me you had returned. Is everything alright?” Nathaniel’s voice was quiet. She turned to look, having apparently left her door open. Anders was beside him. They took one look at her face and knew it wasn’t. Anders quietly shut the door as Nathaniel walked towards Dria.

A quick glance at her interesting choice in kindling and he made the connection to what must have happened. “He’s a blighted fool,” Nathaniel whispered into her hair as he pulled her into his arms.

“I’ll get the alcohol,” Anders offered, returning a few moment later with a bottle of whiskey for each of them. He had no idea the Commander even had a relationship, but he could tell the signs of a broken heart easily enough. She and Nathaniel had proven their loyalty and friendship to him time and again and he would do all he could to return that to her now.

“Thanks Anders,” Dria took a bottle from him and sat in front of the fire. Bruiser laid his head in her lap. She absently stroked his head as she drank. Anders and Nathaniel joined her on the floor, each with a bottle in hand.

“Del’s not going to be happy you burned the dress. I think she secretly coveted it.” Nathaniel commented.

Dria shrugged, “I’ll buy her another,” she looked at her friends with tears in her eyes. “What’s so wrong with me that no one wants me?”

Anders and Nathaniel immediately moved to surround her. They both wrapped their arms around her in a hug.

“There’s not a thing wrong with you that I can see,” Anders reassured her.

Dria silently sobbed with her head resting on Nathaniel’s shoulder, surrounded by the only two people in Thedas she felt cared about her anymore. Despite all the tears she’d already cried that day, her heart still hurt. She sniffled as her tears slowed, drinking from her bottle as she continued to lean against Nathaniel and Anders against her, the three of them watching the fireplace. She said a silent prayer to Andraste for having the two there to comfort her broken heart.

After more than an hour she finally spoke again. “He thinks I’m involved with King Alistair.”

Nathaniel leaned up and looked over at her, “The same King that is never in the same room as you?”

Dria nodded. “I’ve heard the rumors, but honestly didn’t give them any mind. I figured anyone that mattered knew the truth,” she shrugged.

Anders, who had pulled another bottle from his robe and was quite visibly drunk slurred as he talked. “Well then he’s a moron to think you’d ever be unfaithful. In fact,” he hiccuped, “I’d say the only thing stupider than him is a Templar.”

A covert look passed between Dria and Nathaniel, but neither said a word. 


	8. World Of Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We start now with DA2 already in progress (we're in Act II). This and the next chapter are going to be less exciting, filling in the gaps between then and Skyhold. This is still a Cullen/Cousland story, but he done fucked up, so there's no Cullen/Cousland right now. That'll change in Skyhold...probably...
> 
> Hey, at least I haven't killed any main characters so far. Aren't you proud of me?

**Three Years Later**

Cullen stepped out into the Gallows Courtyard and took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was one of the things he enjoyed about his assignment here, being able to step outside daily and bask in the sun. He liked his time here, and not only because he had quickly risen to the rank of Knight-Captain, but because he found the majority of Templars here to be like-minded to him. No longer was he the ‘Freak’, no longer was he the object of glares and curious glances. Here he was respected, here he led men and women to do their duty. He’d awoken in a good mood this morning, and that mood carried with him as he took his spot in the courtyard. He found that standing in the center of the stairs, he could see nearly everything, including who was coming and going. He watched the bustle of merchants setting up their wares for the day and the tranquil moving about carrying reports for the Knight-Commander, or purchasing supplies needed for the Circle. Yes, today was going to be a good day.

“Hey there, Curley!”

And just like that his good mood faded. Cullen turned his gaze to watch as Hawke approached with his usual odd group of companions. The only one he could tolerate was the dwarf, Varric, who had once said something about including Cullen in one of his stories.  _ Maker, Cullen hoped he was kidding about that. _ Besides Varric, there was the angry looking, tattooed elf and the blonde man who always looked uncomfortable when around the Gallows. The blonde looked familiar, but Cullen was unable to place him. There was also the pirate who he’d drunkenly flirted with once, which turned out to be a big mistake as she now constantly asked to see his sword, and Cullen was pretty sure she didn’t mean the one attached to his back. 

“Hello, Knight-Captain,” her hand ran along his arm. “Why don’t we take a walk and you show me how to handle that big sword of yours.”

Cullen did his best to not roll his eyes at Isabela.

“Hawke,” Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you need something specific or are you just here to ruin my day?”

“Tsk-tsk,” Hawke smirked at Cullen. “I’m beginning to think we aren’t friends.”

“We aren’t,” As far as Cullen was concerned, Hawke was arrogant, and never took anything seriously. And what was with the constant stubble on his cheeks, did the man forget to shave  _ every _ morning? Seriously, who walked around like that? Then there was the hair, always tousled and messy. The man needed a razor and a haircut, Cullen thought as he rolled his eyes.

Hawke placed his hands over his heart, “You wound me, Knight-Captain.”

“Michael,” whispered the blonde man, the only of Hawke’s companions that Cullen had never been introduced to, “let’s not start something here.” His eyes darted about as if looking for an incoming attack.

Hawke’s face softened as he looked at the man and nodded. “For you, sure.” He then turned his attention back towards Cullen. “Much as I do so love our enthralling conversations, I’m here to see Thrask.”

“Ser Thrask is by the weapon merchant,” Cullen nodded his head to indicate where the man in question was to be found.

“Ah, wonderful. Until later,” Hawke mock-saluted and headed off with his crew. Isabela turned back to look Cullen up and down and, locking eyes with him, licked her lips. Cullen simply raised his eyebrow in response. 

He watched as Hawke and Thrask spoke, too far away for him to make out just what they were saying. They seemed to reach some agreement as they shook hands and Hawke walked off with his crew. Cullen’s eyes followed the troublemakers until they were out of the courtyard. Like him, Hawke was Ferelden, but instead of feeling a kinship with his fellow countryman he found the man an irritation, like a pebble in his boot. Trouble seemed to always follow Hawke, and Cullen had suspicions that Hawke was involved with the constant escapees the Circle faced. Cullen was determined to figure out how they were escaping and put an end to it, along with whoever was involved.

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Cullen read through the reports on his desk. He’d been excited when he was promoted so quickly to Knight-Captain. He hadn’t realized at the time just how much paperwork the job entailed. One plus though, was that he had his own room, no longer waking others up with his yelling out in the middle of the night.

“Knight-Captain,” the monotone voice told him it was one of the Tranquil. Cullen noticed a bruise on the Tranquil’s arm as the mage reached out his arm to hand Cullen a piece of paper. He thought to ask where it had come from, but honestly didn’t want the mage in his office any longer than necessary. He hated being anywhere near mages, but the Tranquil, with their lack of emotion, and their dead eyes just creeped him the fuck out.

Cullen dismissed the man and read the note from Knight-Commander Stannard requesting his presence. Cullen took a quick look in the mirror to ensure he was presentable and then walked down the hallway to her office. He knocked once and waited until she bid him in to enter.

“Ah, Knight-Captain,” she looked up from her desk and nodded at him before looking back at her paperwork. “It appears that Ser Alrick has gone missing along with a few of the newer recruits. They were last seen heading towards the dungeons after an escaped mage. Take two others and find my missing Templar.”

Cullen saluted and left to retrieve to scouts to help him. While it was nice to have something besides reports to work on, the thought of being underground in the dungeons sent a chill through him. 

He found two young recruits, whose names he couldn’t recall, in the training yard. “You two, with me,” he called out to them. The young men practically fell all over themselves to impress the Knight-Captain. Cullen briefed them on the mission and then led the way into the dungeons.

They walked in silence but Cullen wished they would speak, if only for the distraction. The halls were eerily quiet, only the dripping of water here and there breaking up the silence. The further in they went, the more it felt like the walls were closing in on him. Cullen tried to steady his breath, painfully aware of how loud it had become. He was the Knight-Captain, he couldn’t fall apart in front of these men. Meredith would have his head. She ran a tight Circle and put up with no foolishness. For the most part, Cullen appreciated that and found comfort in the order and rules.

The sound of voices up ahead caused him to pause. The voices sounded familiar, but not like Alrick. Cullen signaled for the others to follow him quietly. He held his sword in front of him, and walked towards the voices. Once close enough he realized, much to his annoyance, just who he was hearing.

“Clearly he’s lost control, yet still you protect him,” Fenris grumbled.

“You saw what was going to happen if we hadn’t interfered. I’m not surprised in the least that Justice would show for that,” Hawke replied followed by the sound of jingling.

Cullen turned the corner to see Hawke, the elven warrior, and the dwarf rummaging through the remains of the missing Templars. 

Hawke held up his hands. “It was like this when we arrived.”

“I find that very doubtful,” Cullen shook his head.

“You should be grateful, Knight-Captain. He was a roach in your ranks,” Hawke chuckled. The man took nothing seriously, not even murder apparently.

“This is not a laughing matter. Ser Alrick was a respected member of the unit,” Cullen snarled.

“Oh come now. Don’t act like you didn’t know what Alrick was up to. Even in the streets we hear the stories of the beatings and rapes in the Circle. There’s zero way you don’t know of them up their in the tower,” Hawke raised a cocky eyebrow.

“Those are nothing but unfounded rumors. Mages will lie to…”

“Bullshit,” Hawke snapped back. “You all treat them like animals, like you can do whatever you want to them without repercussion.” 

“Mages aren’t people,” Cullen snarled. “Not like you and me. You can’t turn your back on them for one moment. Even your companion there knows they are no better than a viper.” He pointed towards Fenris. “Get out of here before I change my mind and drag you in for questioning, Hawke.”

“I’m not going to let you get away with this. This abuse will end if I…”

“Come on Hawke, let’s not bait the angry Templars,” Varric started pulling at Hawke’s sleeve. “Besides, you should check on Blondie.”

Hawke deflated slightly but kept his eyes on Cullen’s as he headed out a tunnel on the opposite side of the cave. Cullen searched around, it was then that he noticed the mage huddled in the corner, her arms over her head.

“Take her. The Knight-Commander will see to it that she pays for this,” Cullen growled in the mage’s direction and turned to lead the group out of the Maker-Forsaken place. He couldn’t get back to fresh air soon enough.

They walked back through the tunnels in silence, Cullen leading the way, the mage behind him followed by the two other Templars. Cullen was quietly steaming, angered that Hawke would accuse him of ignoring abuses amongst the ranks. It was clear that the rogue would make any excuse to justify the atrocities of the mages. The young mage behind him tripped and reached out, grabbing Cullen’s arm to catch herself. Cullen’s hands tightened into fists to control the urge to flinch. He  _ would not _ show weakness in front of his men. Instead he glared at the mage who squeaked and scrambled back from him, returning her gaze to the ground. 

“Bring her to solitary until the Knight-Commander makes a decision,” Cullen instructed the recruits once they were back at the Gallows. 

Ser Thrask caught sight of them and rushed to catch up to Cullen who was headed to his office to write his report. 

“Knight-Captain,” Thrask saluted as he neared. “What do you intend to do with Lucinda?”

“Who?” Cullen was at a loss for whom Thrask was asking about.

“The mage girl you just brought in,” he explained.

Cullen sighed. Thrask had been a Templar long enough to know better than to learn the names of those under their watch. That was one step away from befriending them, and that was where it became dangerous. He liked the man, but he was a fool.

“That will be up to the Knight-Commander to decide,” Cullen replied.

“But she’ll have her made Tranquil or hung,” Thrask warned. “The Knight-Commander isn’t in her right mind. Surely you see that. She is far to quick with the brand.”

“What I know is that, that mage killed four Templars, including Ser Alrick. The Knight-Commander would be justified in whatever actions she sees fit,” Cullen felt relief to finally be back to his office door, ready to put the events of the day behind him.

“Cullen, surely you know things aren’t right here,” Thrask pleaded.

“What I know is that you are too loose with your guard over the mages, Thrask, and it’ll come back to bite you one of these days. I just hope it doesn’t doom us all in the process,” Cullen replied and closed the door in the other’s face.

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The streets were crackling with fire and the sounds of screams filled the night sky as the Qunari laid siege to the city. Hawke ran through the streets, rescuing who he could, and saying a silent prayer to the Maker for those he couldn’t. Hot on his heels were Anders, Fenris, Varric and Merrill. 

“They’ll be headed for the Viscount’s office, Hawke,” Fenris warned.

“Why?” Hawke dug through rubble, freeing two young elves from being trapped.

“To seize control. Everyone will be given a choice, join the Qun or die,” Fenris explained.

“Delightful,” Hawke grumbled as they took off for the gates that would carry them from Lowtown to Hightown. “Any ideas how we stop them?”

“I don’t know that we can, but you have my blade just the same,” Fenris answered. Hawke clapped the elf on the back thankful for his loyalty. He didn’t even need to bother to ask if Anders or Varric were onboard. He knew his lover and his best friend would both be beside him in the end.

Hawke’s eyes lit up as he noticed several Grey Wardens rushing through the city. Perhaps he’d have more help than he thought.

“Wardens,” Hawke held up his hand in a wave. “Good to see you, we could use your help.”

“I’m afraid this is a political matter, and Grey Wardens do not interfere in those,” a Warden with an impressive mustache replied in an Orlesian accent.  _ Of course the Orlesian doesn’t want to help, _ Hawke thought to himself,  _ he’s probably late to some fancy party where everyone is looking down their nose at everyone else. And what’s with those masks they always wear? Why isn’t he wearing one? Did someone steal it or do you have to give it up when you join the Wardens? _

He was pulled from his mind wandering by Anders making a step to come up beside him. As the healer opened his mouth to say something, Hawke noticed one of the other Wardens, a young woman with black hair and a fresh cut on her chin, shake her head ‘no’ almost imperceptibly. Anders seemed to pick up on the message as he closed his mouth and seemed to shrink behind Hawke as if no longer wishing to be noticed. Hawke watched the Wardens leave and made a note to ask Anders what that was all about later.

By the time later rolled around, Hawke was in too much pain from having had the Arishok’s sword run through him to remember about the Wardens. 

“Hush, love,” Anders tried to quiet him in vain as he worked to heal the wound. It was a small miracle that Hawke hadn’t bled out already.

“I was pretty heroic back there, wasn’t I?” Hawke coughed as he spoke.

“If by heroic you mean incredibly stupid, then yes, Michael, you were very heroic,” Anders replied as he continued to push as much of his healing magic as he could into Hawke.

“I think I should get a reward.” Hawke wagged an eyebrow. 

_ Seriously? He was flirting NOW?  _ Anders let out a sigh and gave his boyfriend a stern glare. “I think you should be quiet and let me concentrate. We can talk about a reward when you’re  _ not _ bleeding out on your sheets.”

“Fine,” Hawke pouted. “But did you hear Meredith, I’m now the ‘Champion’. That should afford you some relief from the Templars.”

“I seriously doubt Meredith or her lapdog, Cullen, care much about titles when it comes to dragging in dirty mages, love,” Anders shook his head.

“Well maybe it’ll get us some free pies at the market at least. Ooo, I hope apple, I love apple pies,” Hawke sighed and looked like he was indeed dreaming of pies. Anders just chuckled at the man’s rambling while checking him over for any missed injuries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know not much happened here. The next chapter will be more exciting.
> 
> Would love your thoughts <3


	9. Sunday Bloody Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.

Duty rosters and paperwork had become a daily routine for Cullen. After the qunari invasion decimated the city--as well as it’s guards--the Templars stepped in to help protect the city. Knight-Commander Meredith saw it as a way to endear the people to the idea of her taking the position Viscount. Cullen was less political in his thinking; he just wanted to help, and this served as a direct way to do so.

Unfortunately, helping also meant that he’d had to work with the Champion of Kirkwall, Michael Hawke of all people. The people loved the irritating ass of a...and then there was the Champion’s apostate lover who Cullen was now  _ very _ certain he recognized from somewhere else. Maker, the two of them combined gave him a headache right between the eyes everytime they were in the Gallows courtyard. It was as if they were  _ flaunting  _ the fact that the Templars couldn’t touch the healer. In fact, Cullen was sure that’s exactly what they were doing given how smug Hawke always looked.

Cullen paused in his editing of the latest rosters, interrupted by a knock on his office door. 

“Enter,” he commanded without looking up.

“Knight-Captain, Ser. I came to deliver my report.”

“Ah, Ser Tera,” Cullen looked up and put his quill down. He reached out his hand to take the paper from her. He was a few sentences in before he realized she was still standing at attention. “Is there something else?”

“I’d like permission to go to Hightown, Ser,” she requested.

Cullen looked her over, she seemed visibly excited. “What is it in Hightown that you’re apparently dying to do?”

Ser Tera looked at him as if he’d grown a third eye. “The King, Knight-Captain, Ser. I used to serve him in Denerim and it’d be amazing to see his Majesty again.”

Cullen sighed, he’d pleasantly blocked the knowledge that  _ he _ was in town. Cullen waved her off, “Go. Maybe you’ll get lucky and see the Hero, too.”

“Ser?”

“The Hero. Of Ferelden.” Cullen raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, I know  _ who _ , Ser,” Tera chuckled. “I’m just not sure why you thought I’d see her.”

“Last I heard they were joined at the hip,” Cullen grumbled and picked back up his quill suddenly desiring to bury himself back into paperwork. It may have been several years, but the thought of how Dria had made a fool out of him still stung.

“Oh  _ that _ . That was all rumors,” Tera waved her hand in the air.

“Rumors usually have some truth behind them,” Cullen mumbled into his reports. “I met them both during the Blight. It was clear something was up.”

Tera shrugged, “Can’t say much about the Blight. Like I said, I worked at the castle, Ser, directly for the King. The two of them were never an item that I saw.”

“They were,” Cullen was getting increasingly frustrated with this conversation. Would it be an abuse of power to give her kitchen duty for her keeping it going?

“Hard to have a tryst when you’re never anywhere near each other,” he looked up to see Tera had her hand on her hip and was giving him a look as if he was thick. “Anytime the Hero was due to arrive the King would hide, sometimes leave altogether. I think he was afraid of her. Heard they had some huge falling out at the Landsmeet that named him King. Anyway, don’t want to miss the last boat out, thank you for permission, Knight-Captain.” She saluted and exited.

Cullen watched the door close and felt like all sound had left the room with Ser Tera. He replayed that day at the inn over in his mind, only this time instead of focusing on his emotions, he tried to recall her reaction. It was as if he really saw it for the first time, the confusion on Dria’s face at his accusations. A snapping noise brought him back to the present and Cullen noticed the quill in his hand had broken in two. He looked at it only for a moment, and it was as if that snap brought thingsto a head. Everything went flying off his desk with one swing of his arm; the inkwell smashed to bits along the wall, just as he’d done to their relationship. He threw it all away for  _ what _ ? A rumor? A few stray words from some Templar he barely knew and he believed it over her without another thought? 

Cullen put his face in his hands.  _ You complete and utter moron _ . He’d destroyed the only thing that mattered for nothing more than a few whispers in his ear. Even the mages in the tower got more trust than her.

“Knight-Captain,” his clerk came running in, presumably drawn in from the crashing sound the inkwell had made. “Is everything alright, Ser?”

“No,” Cullen was barely able to get the word out, his throat felt raw. He left his clerk standing confused in his office and headed to the training yard hopeful someone would be out there to beat some sense into him, suddenly feeling numb.

Halfway to the training yard he ducked into a supply closet needing to hide his anguish. His mind kept replaying those hurtful, nasty things he’d called her. All he could see when he closed his eyes was the heartbreak on her face. What kind of monster does that to someone they care about? Tears formed in his eyes but didn’t fall as he berated himself. He was a beast, he deserved every horrible thing those demons did to him. His stomach lurched and he feared he’d lose whatever remained of his lunch. He should have asked her, he should have  _ trusted _ her. Why didn’t he just ask her? He had never deserved her, never deserved happiness and what he learned today proved it.

Cullen roared and slammed his armor covered fist into the wall. It was those mages, those Maker-forsaken damned blood mages. They damaged him. They made him angry and paranoid. It was their fault he’d become so twisted that he’d lost her. Those damned mages. He made a silent vow to be even more vigilant of the mages here in Kirkwall so that no other Templar would suffer as he had. Meredith was right, the only way to keep things safe was to tighten the leash.

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**Two Months Later**

Hawke walked along the Wounded Coast with Fenris and Isabela in front of him. Beside him walked Anders, the mage’s hand often brushing against his own. It had been a quiet day for once, just a visit to the beach to frolic in the water. It was nice to just enjoy themselves and leave the worries of Kirkwall behind for any afternoon. He watched ahead of him as Isabela playfully ruffled Fenris’ hair, eliciting a deep chuckle from the elf. Hawke smiled at the change in his friend. When they first met, Fenris would have ripped the heart out of anyone that dared try to touch him. Now, well now he still wouldn’t allow anyone he didn’t know to lay hands on him, but with his friends, with this group, he seemed to finally feel that level of trust.

Anders’ linked pinkies with Hawke as they walked. Looking over at him, the smile and contentment on the mage’s face brought a smile to Hawke’s. It was good to see that again. Things had become so tense in Kirkwall in the last few months between the Templars and basically anyone that wasn’t the Chantry. Justice definitely noticed, the spirit showing up more and more lately. Too many nights for his liking, Hawke awoke to find Anders furiously scribbling out edits to his manifesto. He had to practically hog tie Anders to get him to come out and play today, but seeing the relaxation on his lover’s face right now made it worth the fight.

Reaching Lowtown, the duo waved a farewell to Isabela and Fenris with promises to meet up later at the Hanged Man.

“Thank you, for convincing me to go, Michael,” Anders squeezed Hawke’s hand gently. “Justice wasn’t happy for the distraction, but I was.”

“You’re welcome, love,” Hawke returned the squeeze. “I know things are bad and that the underground needs you, but I worry for you.”

“I’d tell you not to, but I know you never listen to anyone,” Anders gave him a playful wink.

“Hey, not listening is what made me Champion after all,” Hawke stood taller.

“I really don’t think they meant to encourage your recklessness with that title, sweetheart,” Anders chuckled.

They entered Hawke’s home and Anders nearly tripped as Hawke quickly shoved the mage behind him.

“You’ll not have him!” Hawke snarled and his hands instinctively went for his daggers.

Anders peeked over Hawke’s shoulder, expecting a Templar, but instead let out a delighted squeal and nearly knocked over the shocked rogue to get to their guest.

“Dria!” Anders joyous mood from earlier emerged again. He picked up his friend and spun her around once while hugging her. Finally putting her back to the ground, he looked her over, running a thumb over the scar on her chin but apparently deciding she was overall well.

“How are you? Both of you?” Dria asked as she studied his eyes for any sign of distress.

“Justice and I are as well as can be expected given the conditions here. He’s happy to see you too, by the way,” Anders ran his hands up and down her arms as he just beamed at her.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend or is this some secret Grey Warden meeting?” Hawke watched Dria wearily.

Anders stood next to Hawke and took his hand, practically beaming at him. “Michael, this is Dria Cousland. Dria, Michael Hawke.”

Hawke finally smiled as he recognized the name, “Hero, welcome.”

“Champion,” she reached to shake his hand. “I’m sorry we couldn’t help with the qunari attack.”

“Hmm,” Hawke nodded, “why didn’t you at least say hi then?”

“Bisset,” she explained. “He was the one with the,” she motioned to imitate a mustache on her face with her finger, “He would have pulled in Anders immediately. Warden council didn’t take to kindly to you two leaving.”

“Did you get in much trouble,” Anders frowned.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Dria reassured him. “But anyway, first chance I could get leave I knew I needed to come see you, see how you were doing. I’d say pretty well based on the size of this place.”

Anders chuckled, “It’s not mine.”

“You live here too, love,” Hawke kissed Anders’ cheek. “Do you need a place to stay while you’re in town? We have the room.”

“I can only stay for the night, but I’ll take your offer, thank you,” Dria replied.

“Apparently I need to work on security. How’d you manage to convince my staff to let you in?” Hawke pondered.

“Bodhan never told you he and his son traveled with me during the Blight?” Dria was surprised to say the least.

“Never, you’d think that would have come up,” Hawke laughed, relieved that the dwarf wasn’t letting just anyone in after all. “So let’s move this party to the library. Do you care for some Ferelden ale?” Hawke indicated the direction of the library with his arm.

“Now you’re speaking my language. I knew I’d like you,” Dria chuckled, linking arms with Anders as they left the front hall.

A few hours later found them all happily buzzed. By this time the others had joined them after Hawke sent word that they should gather there instead of the Hanged Man. Dria stood at the bar cart pouring herself another drink, Anders nearby while everyone else played cards.

“I’m happy you found people here who care about you,” Dria looked over at the others. “I hope they are keeping you safe.”

“I’m one of the lucky ones. Varric pays the Carta to keep the Templars away from me. Many aren’t so lucky,” he picked at his robes.

“It’s that bad?” Dria watched him with concern.

“Worse than you can imagine. There’s mages I  _ know _ were harrowed who’ve been made Tranquil. Knight-Commander Stannard sees blood mages where there are none,” Anders could feel Justice becoming agitated.

“Isn’t there someone to stand up to her?” She raised her eyebrows in concern.

“Hawke tries, but otherwise, no. Knight-Captain Rutherford is her lapdog, happy to follow along in her reign of terror,” Anders snarled.

“Rutherford? Cullen Rutherford?” she worried.

“You know him?” Anders looked at her in surprise.

“Not anymore,” she shrugged, downing her whiskey in one gulp.

“Listen, if you ever need to hide, head back to Ferelden. In West Hills, south of the highway is a small cottage with my family crest on it. It’s mine, my brother seems to have little interest in claiming it. Stay there for as long as you need,” she gave him a sad smile.

“Thank you, my friend,” Anders replied, with just a hint of blue behind his eyes.

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Dria knocked on the Guard-Captain’s door.

“Guard-Captain,” she nodded to the red-head when she looked up.

“Can I help you, Warden…?”

“Cousland,” Dria stepped in and held her hand out.

Aveline shook it and smiled, “Hero, I heard from Hawke you were around. Sorry I couldn’t come around last night but someone needs to be the responsible one.”

Dria snickered. “I was wondering if you could confirm some rumors I’d heard from Anders-”

“About the Templars?” Aveline guessed. She continued when Dria nodded. “I wish I could say he was overreacting but things are near a boiling point. The Knight-Commander and Knight-Captain are too eager with the brand and the Grand Cleric refuses to intervene. I worry things will come to a head soon.”

Dria sighed, “That’s what I was worried about. I wonder if you could do me a favor?”

“Absolutely. I was at Ostagar, that you and King Alistair survived was a miracle. What can I help you with?”

Dria handed over an envelope. “Could you deliver this to the Knight-Captain? But wait two days please.”

“Why the wait?” Aveline raised an eyebrow noticing the odd thickness of the envelope.

“I’d rather he not be able to find me after he sees that,” Dria shrugged.

“If this is going to make matters worse-”

Dria shook her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s more personal. Will you do it?”

“Consider it done,” Aveline nodded and looked up as one of the city guard stood patiently outside her door. “If you excuse me, I am late for inspections. It was a pleasure to meet you, Hero.”

“Thank you,” Dria shook the Guard-Captain’s hand and headed out.

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Cullen entered his office, his eyes scanning the latest reports from the Knight-Commander. It wasn’t until he sat at the desk that he noticed the envelope there, nothing written on the outside. He slit the envelope open. As he took out the note inside, a flower fell from the envelope onto the desk. Not just any flower; an Andraste’s Grace. Cullen froze for a moment and stared at the flower.  _ It couldn’t be, could it? _ He unfolded the paper, but it was lacking in the information he had been hoping for, only four words were written there. He looked on the other side, but that was all for the message.

_ You’re better than this. _

Cullen could feel his heart speed up. He picked up the flower and the note and placed it back into the envelope. He took them with him to his door.

“Templar Roberts,” he called to the man on guard duty.

“Ser,” the Templar saluted.

“Who besides Templars have been in my office this afternoon?”

“Besides us, Ser? Just the Guard-Captain. She couldn’t wait for you, asked to leave a note in your office.”

Cullen gripped the note in his fist.  _ Hawke!  _ Somehow he’d found out about her and was trying to manipulate him. Cullen nodded to the man, and headed out to the docks.

Aveline looked up when an aggravated Knight-Captain stormed into her office. “Knight-Captain, what can I do for you?”

“You know damned well what I’m here about, Aveline,” he snarled. “Hawke put you up to this, didn’t he?” He waved the note in the air.

Aveline shook her head. “Far as I know, Hawke has nothing to do with that. She said it was a personal matter. I should have guessed something was wrong when she asked me to wait to deliver it.”

“She?” Cullen’s heart was thudding again. Could it really be  _ her _ ?

“The Hero. She implied you two knew each other.”

“Where is she now?” he couldn’t keep the desperation from his voice.

Aveline shook her head again, “I’m sorry. I believe she left Kirkwall after handing me that. She didn’t say where she was headed. I’m sorry for delivering it now. Had I known it would upset you-”

“No, I…” Cullen looked at the note. “I think it was something that needed to be said.” He headed out of the door, much calmer than he had left, but feeling disappointed that she’d been unwilling to see him. “Farewell Aveline, thank you.”

Aveline chuckled after he left.  _ Well played, Hero _ she thought to herself.

Cullen returned to his desk and sat down, pulling out the note again. He removed his gloves, and gently touched the flower.  _ She  _ had touched the same flower. He looked at the note again and sighed. He ran his finger along the curvy letters of those four frustratingly small words. She was clearly long gone, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him given how horribly he’d treated her last time. Still, he wished he’d caught even a glimpse of her.

Cullen put down the note and returned to the reports. Meredith talked about new orders to crack down even further on what limited freedoms the mages had now.  _ You’re better than this _ . Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew things were not headed in a good direction, he knew the Knight-Commander was cracking down too hard. But still, there were so many blood mages. He was getting a headache. Everything was so much easier before that damned note.

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**Three Months Later**

“In joining the mages, you have decided to share their fate,” Meredith glared at Hawke.

“Knight-Commander, I thought we intended to arrest the Champion,” Cullen stepped around his superior to face her. This was wrong, something wasn’t adding up. He could feel something buzzing, like lyrium but, well just  _ wrong _ .

“You will do as I command, Cullen,” Meredith ordered him.

“No,” Cullen denied her for the first time since arriving in Kirkwall. “I defended you when Thrask whispered you were mad. But this is too far.”

Meredith snarled at him and drew her sword. It glowed red and he heard Hawke and Varric gasp.

“You recognize it, do you?” Meredith asked. “The dwarf charged a hefty fee for it. All of you, I order you to kill the Champion.”

“Enough,” Cullen stood between Hawke and Meredith. He could see now, her eyes were all wrong as was the song he heard from her sword. “This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command.”

“My own Knight-Captain, succumbing to blood magic,” Meredith growled. “Kill him as well.”

Cullen drew his sword. The ensuing battle was beyond anything he could imagine. Meredith seemed to have otherworldly powers. She somehow brought the large statues in the courtyard to life to fight them all. In the end, it was her sword that was her undoing as there was a flash of light and she was left encased in red lyrium.

Cullen walked to where Hawke stood with his companions, the mage, Anders, healing their wounds. “The people will demand justice is served,” he watched Anders as he spoke.

Hawke lifted his blades, visibly tired but also making it clear he’d fight Cullen before any harm came to Anders.

“Take him and leave now, while the rest are distracted,” Cullen said quietly. “I’ll buy you what time I can.”

“And what will you say when they ask how we escaped so easily?” Hawke questioned.

Cullen shrugged, “I’ll think of something.” He didn’t see Fenris’ fist coming until it was too late. He glared at the elf as he tried to stop the bleeding from his lip.

“Now you can say we fought you,” the elf snarled, and headed off with the others.

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Anders glanced sideways at Hawke as they trudged through the snow. The sharp whistle of the wind and the crunching of the snow under their boots the only sound. No matter how often Hawke assured him that everything was ok as long as they were together, Anders couldn’t help but feel guilty. Hawke had lost everything,  _ given up _ everything to stay with Anders. 

“I think that’s it, up ahead,” Hawke pointed.

Anders nodded and followed. Hawke’s hand was on the door handle when Anders smacked it away. “Someone’s inside.”

His magic glowed on his hands, spell at the ready when the door flung open.

“Oh thank the Maker! You’re alive,” Dria sobbed as she threw her arms around Anders neck and pulled him into a hug. Hawke let out a sigh of relief. They could finally stop running.


	10. I Wanna Get Better

**5 Years Later, Skyhold (9:42 Dragon)**

Cullen stood in front of the makeshift desk in the courtyard as he gave orders to those around him. Despite recently taking ownership of an office in one of the towers, he felt being in the middle of the action, he could get more done in the reconstruction of Skyhold from here.

“Bring these notes to the Nightingale,” he handed off a stack of paper to an awaiting scout. The scout continued to watch him, despite the instruction. “Now!” _Maker_ , he pinched his nose wondering _what_ he’d done to annoy Leliana so much she’d assigned this scout, Jim, to him.

“You look like you could use a break,” Faron Lavellan smirked at the Commander as he leaned his backside against the table.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen nodded to the elf. “I won’t let what happened at Haven to yo...to us all happen again.”

“Still doesn’t mean you can’t sleep, _Commander,_ ” Faron raised an eyebrow. He’d been over this with him so many times, how he would prefer to just be _Faron_ , not some stupid shem title.

Cullen chuckled warmly, “My apologies, Faron. I’ll sleep when this is over.”

“Do you mean the rebuilding of Skyhold or the war?” Faron couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under Cullen’s eyes. They seemed to have grown darker in the month they’ve been at Skyhold. Cullen shrugged in reply.

“Was there something you needed?” Cullen stood up straight, concerned he’d missed something he should be taking care of.

“I just wanted to get to know you better, now that we’ll be working together more,” Faron nodded to a passing scout.

“What would you like to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“Ferelden, Honnleath to be specific, though I haven’t been there since before the Blight.” Cullen felt some pangs of guilt he hadn’t made the time to see his family when he could have. Now, well now he was sure he’d be a disappointment to them.

“That’s a long time. Where have you been before joining up with the Inquisition?” Faron leaned his hands on the table beside him, getting more relaxed.

“Kinloch Hold and then Kirkwall,” Cullen worried this would now lead to questions he didn’t want to answer. _Why didn’t you stop Meredith sooner? Why didn’t you see what Anders had planned? Why would you dare think you had any right to be here, working with the Inquisition, much less leading its army?_

Faron nodded and then took the conversation in a direction Cullen hadn’t expected. “So, anyone special you left behind in Kirkwall?”

“No. Not in Kirkwall,” Cullen shook his head.

“You’re not a...I mean Templars, they don’t take a vow of chastity, do they?” Faron’s eyes were big.

Cullen blushed. That definitely wasn’t a question he’d been expecting, “No.”

“To which question?” Faron raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Both. Maker,” Cullen looked up at the sky, feeling his face get redder.

“So then, you’re available, and no vows,” Faron wiggled his eyebrows.

“I...I appreciate the attention, Faron, but I prefer the company of women.” Could this conversation end soon?

Faron laughed in reply, “I’m flattered, but I’m interested in someone else. Not that he’s noticed.”

“Then _what_ is the point of this conversation?” Cullen became exasperated.

“Distraction. And to see how much you can blush. It really is quite endearing, Commander,” Faron chuckled and then headed off to presumably annoy someone else. _He’s worse than Hawke_ , Cullen sighed and returned to overlooking the rebuilding plans.

Faron headed up to the distant battlement Varric had asked to meet him at. He wasn’t sure why, but the dwarf had been cagey about who he wanted to introduce. The fact it was so far away from everyone else caused Faron some concern. Who was Varric avoiding? Was this a trap? As he approached, Faron could see Varric talking with a tall man, easily Cullen’s height, dark brown hair and some scruff on his face. While he couldn’t hear what they were saying, their laughter reached his ears; a friend then.

“Shooter,” Varric smiled wide at him, “allow me to introduce Hawke. Hawke, the Inquisitor.”

Faron’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he realized the Seeker is who they were avoiding. “Champion, good to meet you.”

“Just Hawke is fine,” he nodded. “Varric filled me in on what’s been happening. We dropped a damned mountain on Corypheus. He was dead, so this,” he waved his hands at the scar in the sky where the breach had been, “has me baffled. But you have my blades Inquisitor. I find it rude when someone I kill doesn’t stay dead.”

“Hawke, I thank you. And it’s Faron,” he shook the hand Hawke offered. “Varric, you’ve been holding out on us.”

“Yeah, well he’s been through enough, I wasn’t about to throw my best friend to those wolves, but then, Corypheus…,” Varric shrugged.

Faron nodded in understanding. “I get it. But Cass may not, so be wary,” he then turned his attention back to Hawke. “So, what can you tell me about the Ugly One?”

“Not too much. He’s an ancient magister. Wanted my blood, or my brother’s, to release him from a Warden prison. As I said, we killed him, so for him to show up again, I just don’t know how,” Hawke shrugged. “My coming isn’t completely altruistic. My brother’s a Warden and like the others, he’s missing. I hoped maybe the Inquisition could help me find him in exchange for my help.”

“I’d love to, but except for Warden Blackwall, we haven’t been able to locate them,” Faron shook his head.

“About that, I may be of help. I have a contact, a Warden specifically. They’re holed up north of Crestwood waiting for me to return. We have some intel about where the other Wardens may be. I’d really prefer not to go after the Grey Wardens alone. I’m not looking for any promises, Faron, except you’ll _try_. Carver’s all I’ve got left of my family…,” Hawke swallowed hard and just stared out into the courtyard.

“It’s a deal, we can help each oth-”

“Holy shit, is that Cullen Rutherford?” Hawke shouted while laughing, looking at the Commander barking out orders to the soldiers. “Well this day just gets better and better. Varric, you didn’t tell me he was here. Please tell me I’m allowed to annoy him.”

“Aww, Curly’s not so bad, Hawke. May even find you like him,” Varric shrugged.

“Doubtful,” Hawke grumbled.

“Varric, why don’t you show Hawke the tavern while I call a meeting with the War Council. Hawke, we’ll head out to meet your contact as soon as possible,” Faron nodded.

Hawke nodded, and shook Faron’s hand again. He clapped Varric on the back and the two headed down to the Herald’s Rest to catch up.

Faron waited in the War room while the others gathered. Josephine the first to arrive, given her office was right beside the hall. Leliana and Cassandra entered mid-discussion about how to increase the influence of the Inquisition. Faron had little interest in attending any balls, especially in Orlais where the term ‘knife-ear’ was thrown about without care.

“Inquisitor,” Josephine smiled warmly at Faron and handed over a few papers, “some requests from a few nobles in Orlais. Helping them would go a…”

“The Inquisitor is not their errand-boy,” Cullen grumbled as he entered the room. “My apologies for the delay, Inquisitor.”

“Helping them may gain us enough favor to get invitations to the ball,” Josephine explained.

“I’ll take a look, Ambassador,” Faron warmly offered. “I have word of a Warden contact north of Crestwood, I plan to leave in the morning. Varric, Dorian and Bull will be joining me. Commander, if you could make your men in the area aware of our arrival.”

“Of course,” Cullen nodded and made some notes.

“Nightingale, if you could get your scouts to help keep their ear to the ground for word of a particular Warden, as a personal favor to me,” Faron requested.

“What is their name, Inquisitor?” Leliana asked, pen at the ready.

“Carver Hawke,” Faron replied.

“Did you say Hawke?” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to kill that dwarf.”

Everyone watched as Cassandra stormed out of the room, leaving the door open in her wake.

“I, uh, should probably go stop her seeing as how I need him. If she kills him that would make it difficult to get his help,” Faron sighed. “Meeting dismissed or whatever.” He rushed off to try to head off the Seeker.

He entered the tavern and looked around. Bull in his regular spot, Krem standing along the wall watching Maryden strum her lute. Hawke sat at the bar looking out into the room, he raised a mug to the Inquisitor. The shouting from upstairs told Faron Cassandra had beat him here.

“You knew where Hawke was all along!” Cassandra growled.

“Hey, keep it down, some of us are trying to get drunk,” Hawke bellowed upstairs.

“You’re damned right I did,” Varric shoved her off of him.

“You conniving little shit,” Cassandra swung at him but missed as Varric ducked.

“You kidnapped me. You interrogated me. What did you expect?” Varric ran to put a table between himself and the Seeker.

“Here, here,” Hawke cried out.

“Enough,” Faron shouted.

“You’re taking his side?” Cassandra looked hurt.

“I said enough,” Faron glared at her.

“We needed someone to lead the Inquisition,” Cassandra started pacing. “First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but he was gone. We’d thought it all connected, but no. It was just you. You kept him from us.”

“Good move there, buddy,” Hawke called up.

“The Inquisition _has_ a leader,” Varric indicated Faron.

“Hawke could have been at the conclave. If anyone could have saved most holy…”

“I was protecting my friend,” Varric replied.

“Much appreciated. Let me buy you a drink,” Hawke answered.

“Varric, why don’t you go back down and keep Hawke company. Cassandra,” Faron stated as Varric returned to the first floor, ”Varric did what he thought was right. And there’s no saying what would have happened if Hawke _had_ been there. He could have died too.”

“That would have sucked,” Hawke shouted.

“Hawke!” Faron warned.

“Right, shutting up now,” Hawke answered.

“That’d be a first,” Varric chuckled.

“He’s here now, so let’s just see what information him and this Warden can provide us, alright?” Faron tried to calm the Seeker. Cassandra stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and then nodded, seeming more at ease. She headed out, leaving Faron to join Varric and Hawke back downstairs.

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Dria pored over the maps and notes she had spread across the table. Most of them had come from Vigil’s Keep. The Keep had been abandoned and she found that more worrisome than anything else, even more than the tear in the sky. _What_ had happened to her Warden friends who had been there? She really wished Hawke was here. It was much easier to ignore the song in her head when he was around. At least his mabari, Calenhad, was with her. She closed her eyes and tried to will the song away but, like every other time, it didn’t work. She knew it was false, knew the time wasn’t right. _But what does it mean then?_

Letters from Warden Commander Clarel indicated the other Wardens were hearing the Calling too. But why? That’s what Dria couldn’t figure out. She flipped through her papers, looking for a specific letter when she froze. She listened quietly and heard the scrape of a boot on the stone floor of the cave. Calenhad stood and his attention focused intently on the entrance. Putting down her papers and quietly grabbing her sword, Dria silently moved to the door in anticipation of who was coming.

It opened and in walked an elf. Dria quickly raised her sword to his throat, causing the elf’s other companions to stop in their tracks. The elf’s eyes grew wide but he remained motionless, clearly understanding the threat.

“Dria, it’s ok. This is the Inquisitor,” Hawke stepped from behind a qunari. Dria looked, and upon noting the glow of green on the elf’s hand, lowered her sword. Calenhad trotted happily to his master and nudged at Hawke’s hand for a pet.

“My apologies,” Dria nodded to the Inquisitor.

“No need,” Faron gave her a warm smile, reminding her a little of Hawke. “We couldn’t exactly warn you we were coming.”

“Inquisitor, allow me to introduce Warden Cousland,” Hawke stood beside her as he spoke.

“The Hero. Oh Varric,” Faron chuckled, “Cass may very well try to kill you again.”

“Won’t be the last time, I’m sure,” Varric shrugged.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Faron nodded to the Hero. “Call me Faron, please.”

“Vanedria,” she nodded at him. “How much do you know about what’s going on with the Wardens?”

“Not much, really,” Faron shrugged. “We know they’ve been disappearing. What we don’t know is why, and if it’s related to Corypheus.”

“It has to be,” Dria sheathed her sword and walked over to the table. “What makes us a Warden also shortens our lifespan to about thirty years. When it’s our time, we hear sort of a song, referred to as the Calling. When Wardens hear it, they head to the Deep Roads to kill off as many Darkspawn as they can on our way out. All the Wardens are hearing it.”

“All?” Faron’s eyebrows rose.

“All,” Dria nodded. “What I don’t know is how it is happening. But what’s going on, it’s not good. It’s causing the Wardens to panic and I fear what that may mean.”

“Maker,” Dorian whispered.

Dria began to pull together the notes as Hawke rolled up the maps. “We’d like to offer whatever help we can to you, Faron. I’m hoping with our combined resources, we can stop whatever this is before it’s too late.”

“You have resources?” Varric asked Hawke.

“Well, us,” Hawke smirked.

“We welcome the help. Thank you,” Faron nodded and helped them pack away everything.

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“Sorry about the Arishok,” Hawke said to Bull as they all rode on horseback on their way to Skyhold.

“He went rogue,” Bull shrugged. “New Arishok is a former companion of your friend there.”

“Sten?” Dria asked excited, having clearly heard.

“That’s a role, not a name, but yeah,” Bull chuckled.

“Hmm. Clearly I taught him well,” Dria replied, playfully smacking Hawke’s arm when he snorted.

“There’s something up ahead,” Faron called back to them. All horses stopped and the team watched quietly. They could see what looked like a few men in the distance. As they waited though, it became clear it was more like a half dozen, and then something red caught in the sunlight.

“Red Templars,” Bull grumbled.

Everyone quietly got down from their horses. Bull pulled the horses over towards some trees along with Calenhad, much to the dog’s disappointment. He tied them to the trees and then returned to the group.

“Varric, Dorian and I will keep back, you three are the front,” Faron instructed.

It didn’t take long before the Templars noticed them and they clashed in battle with the party. Dria slammed into one Templar with her shield, knocking him back a few steps. She felt the familiar sensation of a barricade going over her and took advantage of the magical assistance. Moving her shield arm beside her, she thrust at the Templar with her sword hard enough he fell back another few steps. She realized quickly despite the Templars being some of the elite fighters in Thedas--after the Wardens thank you very much--this fight proving easier than it should have been.. The red lyrium must be affecting their abilities. She defeated him quickly and, found her next target. A Templar circled wide with the idea of getting behind the Inquisitor. Dria took off to engage, moving quickly to catch him off guard.

Hawke back-stabbed a Templar, catching her in the neck. _It was our good luck none of them are wearing helmets_ he thought. He performed a shadow strike, and managed to catch the swing of a sword aiming for Varric with his daggers. It gave Dorian enough time to cast and the Templar froze as the ice spell hit him.

“You owe me a drink,” Hawke told Varric as he returned his blades to his belt holster.

“By my count, you still owe me about a hundred from Kirkwall,” Varric laughed in response.

“Fine, we’ll call it even then,” Hawke returned the laugh as he clapped Varric on the back. He headed off to pilfer the bodies for any loot. As he did, he noticed Dria in the distance looking down at the Templar she had killed. Her sword beside her on the ground, her shield still in hand.

Hawke approached her, “Dria?”

She seemed to snap to and moved again, picking up her sword and sheathing it. The look on her face is what concerned Hawke the most. Clearly _something_ bothered her.

“Hey, you ok? Do you need healing?” His eyes searched her face.

“I’m fine,” she said curtly.

“Yeah, I know enough to know when someone says it like that, they’re anything but fine,” Hawke put his hands on his hips.

“Just drop it, Michael,” and though her voice sharp, her eyes looked sad.

“It’s dropped,” he put his hands up. He’d spent enough time with her to know she’d talk when and if she was ready and pushing would do nothing but make her angrier.

“You two ready to get to camp? I’d like to beat the storm,” Faron shouted across the field as he looked up at the clouds forming in the sky.

The trip to camp felt heavier to Hawke then it had before the fight. He tried to work out what it had that had Dria in a mood. It hadn’t been the fight, she’d killed before and always seemed fine with it. And they’d fought Red Templars too, on their way to Crestwood, and that also hadn’t disturbed her then, well anymore than would be expected. Hawke watched her as she rode in quiet contemplation. To anyone else, it might just look like she was deep in thought. But Hawke knew her better than any of them and could see the subtle twitch of her mouth. Whatever it was, it was big enough that she wasn’t going to talk about it with others around.

When they settled around the campfire a few hours later, her mood hasn’t improved any, picking at the rations on her plate. She wore a smile, sure, even laughed at something Dorian had said. But it was a mask. He hoped once they settled in at Skyhold she’d talk. He started to feel guilty about talking her into coming now. She had the information about the Wardens, but he could have just as easily taken that to the Inquisition and kept her out of it.

“I’m heading to bed. G’night all,” Dria waved to everyone with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hawke watched with concern as she headed to her tent. He knew enough to leave her be, but the look from Calenhad told him he wasn’t the only one that had picked up on something being off.

For reference, here's my best interpretation of Michael Hawke:


	11. Somebody I Used to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dria arrives at Skyhold

The feeling of a hot poker behind the eyes came out of nowhere. Cullen gripped the table as a wave of nausea followed. Not for the first time, he wondered if this was worth it. He needed to talk to Cassandra, he put the Inquisition at risk. Barely taking a step, his legs gave out under him.

“Whoa, mate. I’ve got you,” Rylen caught him before he hit the ground. By some small miracle the migraine had hit during their discussion about the search for Samson.

“Ry...Rylen. I...I can’t-” Cullen groaned.

“You can and you will,” Rylen looked at Cullen, the drops of sweat on his forehead told him his Commander had a fever among other problems. “What you’re doing is too important to fail. Let’s get you upstairs.”

It took a lot of juggling but eventually they got Cullen upstairs. Despite the tremor in his hands, Cullen was able to remove his armor on his own.

“I...I need to be-”

“What you need is to rest,” Rylen reassured him. “I’ll take over downstairs, send for the healer to help with the fever.”

Cullen wanted to protest, but felt too weak to do more than collapse on the bed. He’d hoped by now the withdrawals would have been easier, but the sudden onset of this latest migraine proved that wouldn’t be the case. He closed his eyes for just a moment. Rylen placed a cup with Cullen’s tea beside the bed when he opened his eyes again. Groaning, he threw his arm over his eyes to block the sunlight exacerbating his migraine.

He must have fallen asleep, given the sun was nearly down when he next opened his eyes. Voices in the office below discussed Warden towers.

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It was late afternoon when the Inquisitor’s party neared Skyhold. Dria was amazed by the sheer magnitude of it. Her eyes looked all around as they crossed the gates on their horses. Castle Cousland always seemed so big but you could easily fit twenty of the Castle in the Inquisition’s stronghold. 

“Damn,” she whistled.

“Bah, too showy. Clearly compensating for something,” Hawke waggled his eyebrows at her.

Dria snorted and rolled her eyes. It was the first sign of her true smile returning, Hawke felt a sense of accomplishment. She’d been so quiet and withdrawn the last few days. Maybe they'd talk soon about whatever had darkened her mood. 

“This way,” Faron beckoned to them once they’d handed off their horses. 

The keep was even more impressive inside. The air filled with the constant hum of activity, from merchants and buyers, to soldiers running drills, and even the laughter of children playing nearby. Outside, Skyhold looked old and dying, but inside it was full of life. Dria and Hawke followed Faron through the enormous courtyard, up several flights of stairs and into the main hall. It was, like most of the keep, mid-construction. 

“Inquisitor,” Josephine approached the party. “I have rooms ready for Hawke and…”

“Warden Vanedria Cousland,” Dria nodded.

Josephine’s eyes grew wide and a slight look of horror appeared on her face. “Your Ladyship, I didn’t...I thought...I only set aside a small room. Had I known, oh let me…:”

Dria reached out and touched the Ambassador to reassure her. “I’m sure whatever you have is fine, Lady Ambassador. I haven’t lived in luxury in over a decade. All I require is a bed, a bath and ale. I’d honestly prefer to remain anonymous here if possible.”

Josephine visibly relaxed, “Well I can definitely see to that, your Ladyship. I’ll show you to your rooms and have a bath delivered. I’m sure Hawke already is aware of the tavern…”

“Of course,” Hawke laughed. “My dear?” He offered his arm to Dria who took it as they followed Josephine to the guest quarters.

“Just Vanedria is fine, Ambassador. I also need directions to your Commander. I have some notes I wish to share with him regarding the Wardens. Give him time to prepare our next steps,” Dria asked as they approached her room. Josephine provided directions and then left to arrange for baths for the parties. 

The heat from the bath relieved Dria’s tired muscles. As she washed her hair she closed her eyes. Things were far from over, but for tonight she could relax. She would be able to sleep in a real bed. For the first time in weeks she didn’t have to keep one eye open, she wasn’t in danger of her fellow Wardens finding her.

“So, how long are we going to pretend nothing’s upsetting you?” Hawke asked as he sat on the bed watching Dria finish getting dressed in clean clothes after her bath. 

“I’m fine,” she finished tying up her hair.

“Bullshit. I know you better than anyone,” Hawke raised an eyebrow.

“Let me take this over to the Commander, then get me verrrrrry drunk and we’ll talk,” Dria held up the maps and papers in her hand. She placed a kiss on his cheek and headed out.

“I’ll meet you in the courtyard. I’m going to stop by to see Varric first,” Hawke called out as she closed the door. He wondered just how much alcohol her confession would take.

Dria walked out into the courtyard and took in the sights as she walked to the Commander’s tower. Off to one side she could see a woman with short black hair striking a training dummy with her sword. Dria made a mental note to see if she’d like to spar sometime. Loud laughter reached her ears and looking in the direction of the sound, she found Bull being smacked with a large stick by another man who referred to Bull as ‘Chief’.

As she climbed the stairs to the Battlements, the noises of the Keep faded away until all she could hear was the light breeze and the clink-clink of armor from the soldiers on watch. Grasping her notes tighter to prevent the wind from stealing them, she knocked on the Commander’s door, entering when beckoned.

The man inside was tall, fairly attractive, with tattoos covering his face. While he was signing paperwork for a scout, Dria looked him over. 

“Can I help you?” when he spoke to her, she noted the Starkhaven accent.

“Warden Cousland,” she nodded to the Commander. “I have some notes and maps I wished to go over with you in preparation for tomorrow’s discussion.”

“Ah, yes. I had been told you’d be by,” he nodded to her and stepped back to make space at his desk for her.

Dria unfurled a map of the Western Approach. “Do you have a pen?”

“Aye,” he handed her his quill.

“Here,” she circled a spot on the map as she spoke, “is a ritual tower belonging to the Wardens. I’ve found some letters,” she shuffled through her papers, “here,” she handed those to the Commander, “that indicate some of them are headed there. I’m not sure to what purpose.”

“Found?” the Starkhavener smirked at her.

“Yes, while rummaging through the Warden Commander’s desk,” she shrugged and he let out a loud chuckle.

“So, not far from there is an ancient Warden stronghold, Adamant,” she made a star on the map. “I suspect whatever is going on at the ritual tower, there may be more clues to be found at the stronghold.”

She handed off other papers to him. “These are my notes of everything else I could find. Maps and some information about the stronghold. Hopefully these will be of help.”

“It will. Thank you, Warden,” the Starkhavener smiled as he pulled together her papers. He took a long look at her. “You’re her, aren’t you?”

Dria sighed, she’d hoped the Inquisition would be large enough she’d be anonymous. She nodded, knowing just what he was asking.

❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥❤♥

Cullen took a deep breath and waited to see if the migraine was truly gone. Rylen spoke with someone downstairs about Warden strongholds. He only half paid attention, trying to get his bearings.

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he heard Rylen ask. 

Whoever the Knight-Captain talked to didn’t answer. At least not verbally.

“The Hero of Ferelden! My sister is going to freak when I tell her I met you,” Rylen chuckled.

Cullen shot up in the bed and immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness hit him. He struggled to get to the ladder, stumbling several times. He needed to get down there... _ she was there just get down there and worry about feeling sick later _ …

Rylen looked as Cullen came nearly tumbling down the ladder looking worse for wear. 

“Cullen, mate. You need to go back--”

“Wh...where is she,” he groaned, leaning on the ladder to keep him upright.

“The Hero? Don’t worry you’ll get to meet her soon I’m su--”

“Rylen,” Cullen barked. “Where?”

“That way,” Rylen pointed towards the office left side door. “Seriously, you look like shit.”

Cullen ignored his First’s comments and managed to get through the door with only minor difficulty. He leaned against the battlement wall and looked over the courtyard. After a few moments he spotted her, and as he was about to call out he noticed someone walking towards her. He watched as Hawke threw his arm around Dria’s shoulders and they walked off to the tavern. 

Cullen felt his heart drop in his stomach as he watched them walk off together. Of  _ course _ she’d have found someone else, but why  _ him? _ Could she have found someone more obnoxious? Before he could think about Hawke anymore his legs gave out. Rylen caught him as he stumbled.

“Alright mate, let’s get some food in you. That and some of those reports your so fond of should get you feeling better,” Rylen helped carry Cullen back to the office.

A few hours, and feeling much better thanks to the dinner Rylen had sent for, Cullen wandered into the Herald’s Rest. It bustled with energy, although he wasn’t sure if this was typical or not. He rarely entered the tavern, wanting his soldiers to have someplace they could relax without running into their Commander. But tonight he had a reason to be there. He looked throughout the tavern but couldn’t find her. Perhaps they left?

He heard a laugh he recognized and caught sight of Hawke sitting at a table. As if divine intervention, the crowd parted enough for him to see Dria, her elbows resting on the table, her head propped on her hands. Time hadn’t diminished her beauty any and he took a few minutes just to look. It had been so many years, too many since he saw her last. Heart beating loudly in his ears, he crossed the room.

As he neared he saw Hawke watched her with a concerned eye while also engaging others in conversation. 

Cullen sat on the bench beside her and Hawke gave him a look of disdain.

“Bugger off, Curly,” Hawke glared.

“I didn’t come to talk to you, Hawke,” Cullen only gave him a cursory look before turning his attention to the Warden.

“Dria?” Cullen waited for her to face him. 

“Leave me be,” she sniffled. 

_ Maker _ , he hadn’t even thought about if she’d reject him until now, and now that she had, it hurt worse than he could have imagined. “Of...of course…”

“Why are you haunting me? I’m sorry, Maker, I’m so sorry,” she turned to face him, her eyes puffy from crying. Tears were still running down her cheeks.

“Dria?” He looked over at Hawke who shrugged but fully turned to face them both. Hawke reached over and gave Dria’s hand a squeeze.

“I didn’t want to. Maker Cullen I didn’t want to kill you,” she hiccuped and more tears fell.

“What?” she wasn’t making any sense.

Dria shook her head. “You wouldn’t have wanted to become one of those things, so why are you haunting me,” she turned to look at Hawke. “He deserved more than being a Red Templar, he would have asked to be ended. But I still never wanted to hurt him.”

“Are you ok, love?” Hawke’s face filled with concern. It was like a knife in Cullen’s heart to watch this man who had infuriated him for so many years fussing over Dria.

“Dria, I don’t…,” Cullen shook his head. “I’m not dead.” He reached out to touch her arm to prove his realness to her.

Dria choked back a sob and took another drink from her mug. “Stop haunting me!”

“Dria, I’m not…” he looked at Hawke for help.

“So you were the body on the field,” Hawke raised an eyebrow. “She was looking over some Red Templar on the field, pretty much shut down after. What’d you do to her?”

“Hawke,” Cullen grumbled.

“Fine. Dria, sweetheart, he’s really there,” Hawke nodded towards Cullen. “You didn’t kill anyone. I mean you did, but it wasn’t that ass.”

Dria looked at Cullen, really looked at him, this time. Her hand reached out shaking, gently touching his chin. Cullen kept eye contact with her, it felt surreal. He thought he’d never see her again, and now here she sat, close enough hold. Fingertips ran along his jaw, he stayed very still, afraid to frighten her off.

“It’s really you?” Dria searched his face, looking for something.

“It is,” he moved closer to her on the bench.

Dria threw her arms around the back of his neck, “Cullen. Oh thank you. I thought...I was so worried.”

Strong arms wrapped around her as he rested his cheek on top of her hair. “Dria.”

A loud snore her only reply. Cullen looked and confirmed she was in fact asleep, or passed out drunk to be more accurate based on the smell of her breath.

“Where’s her room?” Cullen asked Hawke, starting to get up.

“Oh no, this is where I take over,” Hawke pulled Dria from Cullen’s arms.

“I’m not going to do anything more than take her to her room,” Cullen protested.

“She’s not your responsibility,” Hawke glared at him and carried Dria through the crowd and out the door.


End file.
